Winds
by lyrainthedark
Summary: Given a chance he never thought to have, Miroku is torn between the fear of deception and the fear of death. Swirling around his decision, the lives of his friends, his enemies, cannot be unchanged. Full summary and pairings in profile.
1. Chapter 1

I.

The Breath of the Night

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When the night had quieted, and he could be sure of leaving in a silence so certain no one would know, Miroku crept away from the embers of the evening's fire and out into the trees. The night had been full of wind, so much so that even Kagome's strange fires from the future would not easily light. It had been Inuyasha who eventually succeeded, and his boasting had induced Sango to whack him, Shippou to taunt him – and then of course Kagome used her subjugation spell to punish Inuyasha for dangling Shippou by the tail.

All in all, a normal evening – but he had not joined in their banter, or even risked Sango's ire by reaching for her behind. More and more lately, he had begun to distance himself from her, afraid in more ways than one. His right hand contracted, holding the binding beads tightly. What if he should die, and she should be alone again? Or if he should be swallowed by his Kazaana, which seemed more and more likely as the days went by. Sango did not deserve to lose her life a second time – and while they searched daily for Naraku, they had no guidance or direction. He was sure Inuyasha would never admit it, but these days they were wandering more and more randomly, following every whisper of a rumor, every trace of a hint.

So he left them at night, and wandered himself, thinking between the trees while the birds were quiet. Tonight, the moon was nearing its full, and he had waited longer than usual to make sure Inuyasha was asleep. Probably he would not care, but it was not something he wished mentioned in the daylight, when he would have to explain.

Miroku was tired, so very tired, of explaining. There were days when he felt he was the only one left still serious about finding the jewel shards – silly, of course, but it brought him back to his first days of traveling with company. He trusted Kagome because she was pretty, and that was his weakness – he knew it, and so what? There were far worse things that could be wrong with him.

And Inuyasha? After the first few battles, there was no reason not to trust Inuyasha, except for the sneaking desires of his demon blood. Kagome controlled him, and was controlled by him, while neither of them admitted this, and she was from the future. The possibilities and the practicalities were far too daunting – he had given up without really trying.

The list of names that he had become acquainted with since joining them was grown, and his cares were grown with it – Sango, Kohaku, Shippou, Sesshomaru, Kikyou – how many were enemies, and how many were friends? He knew nothing about Kikyou but what Inuyasha would tell him; nothing about Sesshomaru but what Inuyasha would tell him, and Inuyasha did not _tell_.

Sango could not mention her brother's name without tears in her voice, if not on her face. Even if she refused to admit it, Miroku knew that the shard in her brother's back was his death. Inside him, it was tainted, and controlled. Removed, his life went with it. Deathly, and simple – the traps Naraku planted that worked always were.

_Naraku! _

That was the name he himself had brought, the gift of knowledge, but it had not really helped them much. Knowing their enemy had not aided them in defeating him, and though each time they met their little group had gathered greater strength, so had Naraku.

Miroku stopped walking, and held his bound hand up in the light streaming off the moon. He had made no mention of it to the others, but the Kazaana was growing. More than growing, in fact, it was exploding across the surface of his hand, as though making up for lost time. For a while, it had seemed to stop growing at all.

_Now I will be lucky if I make through another year. Since I was old enough to see over the Autumn grasses, I have hunted Naraku. Since the day my father was devoured, I have lived in fear. Will the end be worse than the fear, I wonder?_

His hand dropped to his side, and he sighed. The power was useful, and without it he doubted if they would have come this far, but the fact remained: it would destroy him.

Suddenly, he was on his guard. The wind was rushing again, but this time he thought he could discern the reason. A broad, white feather was making itself visible in the sky, peeking from between clouds, but while his eyes followed it the presence of jyaki that had alerted him was growing stronger and closer.

_Why aren't you coming down, Kagura?_

The moment after the thought, he felt an edge of bamboo press lightly against his throat, and a noise sent a chill down his back. It was a strange noise to create fear, but he had heard it too many times. What followed was never nice.

Kagura's fan slid open, _ss-ss-ss-tlink – _soft with the whisper-ruffle that silk makes as it slides against itself.

"You are not very prudent, to wander alone in these woods at night, Houshi. It is lucky for you that you are my intended prey, so that others are not as likely to seek you out."

He turned so that he could see her face with the corner of his vision. She licked her lips in a disturbingly arousing way. She was not moving, and seemed in no hurry, but he had to answer her.

"I am your prey? I thought you were the goad that Naraku liked to send after Inuyasha."

She bared her teeth, and flung him out of her grasp. A pulling wind grew around her feet, tousling the grass, but despite the reddening of her eyes nothing came to harm him. While he stood, she spoke, and Miroku's eyes focused on the hand that held her fan, the fingers tight and white, the claws trembling.

"I am no one's goad. Naraku may use me, but he does not control everything I do. My heart is his – my mind and my power are my own to use."

Miroku's face contorted, and he took a step backwards, his whole being writhing with disgust.

"Your heart? You not only serve Naraku, but you are his lover? And here I did not think you could be more vile."

_That was a mistake!_

Kagura's grimace of rage was pure fire, though she was wind. True to her nature, she flew at him, and the hands that clutched his shoulders and dug claws into his flesh shook him like a rag doll. Her kimono blew in the gusts of her passion, which tore the order out of her hair and made the trees around them lash their heads in protest.

"You dare call me vile! You dare, when you know nothing of me, nothing! He has my heart, you descendent of whores – my heart. Feel this!"

She dropped him, and he lolled for a moment, dizzy. She took his hand, and placed it on her chest. For a moment, wide-eyed with incredulity, he thought she was trying to make him grab her breast. As she grew still, and he became more aware of his own pounding heartbeat, he finally noticed her lack. The perfect skin under his hand was silent, and though warm, had no pulse.

Kagura saw his awareness, and pulled away, drawing back into herself like a neatly rolled ball of yarn, tucking all the loose ends inside. A dozen expressions were scrabbling on Miroku's face, but his heart was full of a gut-wrenching sympathy. She was his enemy – he knew it, and she had proved it enough times – but they shared something with each other that they shared with no one else.

"You are not the only one, Kagura. Naraku's curse rules my life as well."

He held out his right hand, wrapped as always in black and indigo cotton, tightly tied with shining, priestly beads. Her fingers touched his palm, feeling the power that was hidden, the draw of energy so close to her own soul.

"Naraku despises the wind. It is free, as he cannot ever be, so he hates it, and twists it, and desires others to hate it. So it always is with him; he will never really be alive."

She withdrew abruptly, rubbing her fingers against each other as though they had been dipped in oil.

"I came here with a purpose, and you have disrupted it."

Miroku bowed in apology, only half-mocking.

"Then please forgive me. What is your purpose – and how can I be sure that it is not Naraku's?"

Kagura gestured wanly at her own chest, and smiled faintly.

"My purpose is to rid you of your curse, Houshi. As for surety, I can give you nothing more than what you now know – and my word, but I doubt that you would trust it. Is it so hard for you to believe that I would want my freedom from Naraku? Every bit of power he loses over you and your friends is distressing to him. When he is distressed, he comes out of hiding, for it is then that is he less willing to leave his destructive endeavors in the hands of we 'children'."

Her smile thinned, and Miroku did not notice that his hands had clenched into fists.

"I know how to rid myself of my curse, Kagura. I must rid myself of Naraku for that to happen, and it seems to me that such a task would be made considerably easier if you were not around to help him."

He squared himself, and swung his staff across his body, preparing for battle. His eyes hardened, but Kagura only laughed.

"It would be extremely foolish of you to attempt destroying me on your own, Houshi. Since you are so untrusting, I will finish quickly, and depart."

She raised her arm, and a whistling wind passed between them. Miroku looked up quickly, and saw the drifting feather that had first distracted him begin a slow descent.

"In the south of this land, there is a mountain blessed by the hermitage of an ancient saint, whose name and history are all but lost to time. This holy man was said to have imparted his sacred essence to a shrine of stones, deep within the caverns of the blessed mountain. Any who pray before this shrine with pure thoughts in their heart and a desire for good will be cleansed of all evil."

She flung out a casual hand, to point at his Kazaana.

"Naraku's curse is powerful evil, but this saint is more powerful still. Naraku sought to use this saint to his advantage, as he has done before, but the pure barrier of the mountain repulsed him, and he could work no evil there."

The feather landed, and she climbed onto it gracefully, and knelt in its center. As it was rising, she looked at him, and Miroku felt pierced by the intensity of her gaze.

"Your time is running out, Houshi. Do not waste this chance."

She was gone on another gust of wind, and he stood for a long while staring up into the sky, watching until the feather had disappeared in the night distance, another glint of white in the star-jeweled sky.

Behind him, there was suddenly a great deal of noise in the brush, and then Inuyasha leapt free of the clinging leaves and their shadows, swinging tetsusaiga as though that would make an enemy appear.

"Miroku! I smelled Naraku – where is he!"

Miroku sighed, and gestured vacantly around the clearing.

"Does it look like Naraku is here, Inuyasha? He never misses an opportunity to taunt you, now does he? You were sound asleep when I got up – are you smelling Naraku even in your dreams now?"

He was surprised with himself; there was no reason to lie to Inuyasha, even though it was not really a lie. Naraku had not been there, but Kagura did carry his scent, according to Inuyasha's nose. There was no reason to hide her presence, either, despite the inexplicable nature of the encounter, but he did not want to be involved in another session of 'I wonder what this truly means'.

"I don't dream about Naraku, baka! And it does smell like him, so don't even try it again!"

Miroku leapt at the opening, trying to distract with the thoughts he knew Inuyasha expected from him.

"I see, forgive me Inuyasha. I should have realized that with Kagome to distract them, Naraku would never have a possibility of entering your dreams. I wonder, do you dream about Kagome one night, and Kikyou the next night – or are they both in the same dream? Or perhaps - "

Inuyasha's shout of rage made Miroku wince – if he had any luck, the girls wouldn't wake – and he turned and ran back toward the campsite, dodging fists and branches with equal skill. When he was safe in his bedroll and Inuyasha was occupied quietly muttering and smashing his fist repeatedly into his chosen tree, Miroku turned onto his side and stared out into the dark.

He almost let out a gasp of pain as he turned. When she had shaken him, Kagura's claws had made perfectly aligned wounds on both his shoulders. How had he not noticed until now? The punctures had bled freely onto his robes, and the blood glistened darkly on the indigo fabric. He was lucky Inuyasha had been very distracted, or there would have more than just Naraku's scent to explain away. He touched the claw wounds gently, wincing, and sighed.

Could it be true? Was there a way out, after all? He didn't want to share his hope, or the snakes-head of suspicion that he could not contain. Kagura aided Naraku – she was his servant, his sorceress, and his slayer – but now that he knew why, his earlier sympathy returned and lined itself with pity. His thoughts had already reshaped, marking her more tragic than evil.

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A/N: More later...I have to sleep now...


	2. Chapter 2

II.

Savage Sky

* * *

Tired after his wakeful night, intent on avoiding the speculation of Inuyasha's wandering memory, Miroku walked at the rear of the group, studying the patterns that their various feet made in the dust. Inuyasha's bare footprints, the tread of Kagome's bicycle tire, Sango's booted feet, and the tiny paw-pad prints of Kirara and Shippou all played across the narrow dirt road, alive with tiny details that failed to make any imprint on Miroku's mind.

He had tried a thousand times since breakfast to put the thought from his mind, to wipe the slate of his memory clean. The thought kept coming back to him, Kagura's voice on the wind.

_**You are running out of time, Houshi. Do not waste this chance.**_

Was it really a chance? Kagura had destroyed Kouga's tribe, taunted Inuyasha, attacking them all every chance she got…

_**Not every chance…**_

Almost every chance, then. Last night could simply be the precursor to a much more fiendish kind of plot, and there was no greater fiend than Naraku. He knew that the others were not likely to let him go alone into the unknown, searching for who knew what, really, on the instructions of Kagura! Kagura, their enemy, Kagura, whose heart belonged to Naraku – but she had helped them before. She knew, had to know, the secret of Inuyasha's transformation, the new-moon nightmare that taunted the hanyou once a month.

If she had told Naraku, they would be in hiding every new moon, not searching for shards. Inuyasha was too impatient to hide – he would run out under the moonlight and be struck down by some demon that he would laugh at in the daylight, or on any other night.

So, Kagura kept Inuyasha's secret. For that matter, so did Kouga, but Kouga was their some-time ally, and most definitely would not betray their trust as long as he sought Kagome for himself. A hopeless quest, but amusing to observe.

Miroku was thinking so hard that he didn't notice the darkening sky over them, or a tingling presence that made the rest of the group stop. He walked into Sango's back, and looked up to apologize. She saw distance in his eyes, confusion and loss, and smiled, both comforting and quizzical. He shrugged, and shook his head, finally looking up. Now was not the time to discuss his thoughts.

The morning's promise of a clear, sunny day seemed to be dying before the approach of massive thunderheads, breaking the blue sky apart and thickening the air with humidity. Though it was nearly summer, they had not reached the truly hot days, and thunderstorms were unusual. Concentrating on the strangeness, he finally felt it, shaking himself free of his malaise.

_**Jyaki! And such a jyaki…**_

Sesshomaru had this much power, but Sesshomaru did not bring storms. Inuyasha had fought such a one before, but that had been a power of weaponry, not a power of being.

"Inuyasha!"

The hanyou turned to him with bared fangs and darting, listening eyes. The smell of rain was so close and heavy that Miroku was aware of it, along with the drifting taint of ozone, a lightning-singed smell.

"This storm is demon-bred; there are waves and waves of dark energy coming from it, and the clouds are moving much faster than the wind could carry them."

"I see it!"

Inuyasha drew Tetsusaiga, and stood ready, facing the approaching cloud mass with a snarl. Kagome lay her bike on its side, and sighted along a feathered shaft, the string loose in her fingers until a target presented itself.

"I'm not going to start shooting at the clouds – where's the demon that's making them? Can you see it, Inuyasha? Miroku?"

Inuyasha shook his head, and leapt straight up, intersecting the front wave of fog that was pouring down over them. The world became grey and misty, and very, very damp. The shifting yellow light of Tetsusaiga was some help – demon bright vision was more, but still did not penetrate very far into the mists. He dropped back down, and landed in a crouch in front of them all, holding Tetsusaiga in one hand.

He shook, sending beads of water flying in all directions from hair and haori, and then shook his head.

"I can't see much of anything up there – too much mist, and not enough light."

Miroku strode up beside them and pointed at the cloud mass. It was growing – strikes of lightning fell at random, demolishing whole trees and burning patches of ground and grass into black ash.

"We cannot allow that demon to live! The storm is boiling out of control – I have never heard of a youkai with such powers, but the wind and lightning will destroy this whole area!"

Sango looked down at Kirara, who let out a small _mew_, and then nodded tersely.

"Right! Kirara and I will go scout out the edges of the cloud. When we find the youkai, I'll fly out quickly, and Kirara's fire will leave a trail. Inuyasha, you'd better watch for it and tell Kagome, so she can shoot. With any luck, the storm will be purified and the demon will be left unprotected."

She flew up into the storm, and they all watched anxiously, until she had vanished into the boiling nexus of clouds. Around them, the darkness had gathered until they were left in a dim light, like a black-and-white ink painting splashed with water and running all to grey. The edges of things grew faint, and blurry. Rain suddenly drizzled, like fog solidified into droplets that one moved through, rather than falling from the sky.

The fog-drizzle became pouring, rain coming down in thick, blinding sheets. Miroku, Kagome, and even Inuyasha were wet through in moments. Shippou took cover in the bicycle basket, dodging the drops that snuck through the weave. Sango, drifting somewhat aimlessly through the cloud, was not much better off.

Kirara was hesitant to fly into the thickest bank of clouds, so much darker than the rest as to be almost black, and Sango was in no hurry to ask it of her. Yellow and purple flashes of lightning wandered in serpent-shapes and shadow-forms through the mist, and the rumble of thunder was a constant, streaming noise. She reached out a hand, touching the darkest roll of clouds with her fingertips – but it was not cloud.

Suddenly, she was looking into an eye. The eye was large, and red, and unblinking, and beneath the eye were long, powerful jaws with shining, lightning-tipped teeth. The tongue that slipped from between the teeth was forked and powerful, drawing out the lightning, and the rumble of its growl was the thunder that she had been hearing. She broke her gaze away from the glowing eye, and turned Kirara in a speeding arc, out of the cloud and back towards her friends.

Inuyasha did not miss a beat. Swiftly, gently, he turned Kagome and pointed with a shout.

"There!"

Just as swiftly, Kagome drew her bow and sighted along the line of Sango's retreat. The arrow flew straight and true, and hit its target with a splashing glow of blue-violet light. She let out her breath, and Sango paused in her flight, turning to watch as the miko shine grew, and flushed through the storm. The thunder became a howl, instead of a rumble, and a heaving, serpentine shape writhed momentarily free of the clouds. As the light from the arrow grew, and then faded.

The clouds remained, but the rain had stopped. Kagome drew another arrow, and looked at Inuyasha. He nodded, and hefted Tetsusaiga with calm focus in his eyes, rare and interesting to watch. A swirl of wind began a slow rotation around the glowing blade, and he swung the sword in a slashing arc and let the Kaze no Kizu loose. Kagome's second arrow shone brightly in the midst of the whirling energy, but before it had moved more than a moment, a wrath of lightning bolts spewed out of the cloud remnants, viscous in their intensity.

Inuyasha swung Kagome to safety, and trusted his nose to guide him around the burning strikes. Miroku tensed, and waited, leaping aside where necessary and fingering the ofuda in his sleeves. With a shout, he whirled to fling them towards the demon-born storm, but above him there was suddenly a scream of horrible, inhuman pain, and he stopped, staring up. Sango was falling, a shrieking, smoking arc of fleshly agony, still tingling with bright yellow flickers of electricity.

Eyes wide with horror, Miroku watched the red streak of Inuyasha moving across the rain soaked grass, but he was not going to make it. It was only Kagome that made him capable of the impossible, and Sango was not Kagome. He unwrapped the beads, and opened his hand, and unleashed the howling winds. They captured the clouds by their lingering tails, and wound them down into the purple darkness; Sango sped towards him, silent now, her limbs hanging limp, and at the last moment he closed his fist, and she shot into him and knocked him over.

He was up in a moment, laying her straight and touching the edge of a shimmering burn that showed over her collar, a bright patch of red flesh that extended under her smoking clothes. With hard eyes, he stood and turned back to the cloud-wrapped demon, watching it howl against the force of Inuyasha and Kagome's combined power. Afterward, more lightning, and Miroku held his staff tightly and closed his eyes. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead, and his mouth moved silently. A shimmering force enclosed himself and Sango, prone on the ground.

The lightning bounced around them, or shivered harmless off the barrier. When it passed, he opened his eyes and turned to find Inuyasha.

"Inuyasha! I'm going to take the rest of its clouds into the Kazaana. You and Kagome need to strike when it is exposed!"

Kagome's eyes were wide with worry for Sango, but she nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. Miroku opened his fist, and again the vortex did its work, pulling the clouds out of the sky, bending the trees and sucking stones from the earth. As the clouds cleared, he squinted in the returning light, and pulled in a tearing breath.

_**A dragon!** _

Across from him, Inuyasha had already taken stance. In the sunlight, they could all see the damage the last attack had done. A black, burning hole was blasted through the dragon's body, lengthwise, and the yowling youkai had lost an eye.

"Kagome! The same spot – get him in the same spot!"

"Right."

She was not normally so murderous, but this demon had injured Sango, and Sango was the sister she had never had. With thirsting eyes, she shot an air that drew power behind it like lightning of its own, and shattered the dragon into a burst of dust-particles with Tetsusaiga's glow behind them.

As soon as he was sure that the dragon was destroyed, Miroku knelt at Sango's side and touched her uninjured shoulder gently, shaking her as much as he dared. She let out a pained moan, so he knew she wasn't dead, but the red, blistered flesh he saw as he peeled away the edge of her collar scared him. Kagome ran up behind him, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Miroku? Miroku, go with Inuyasha. I'll wrap her burns – I have special ointment for them, and then we can take her back to Kaede."

Silent, he nodded, watching Sango's face retreat over his shoulder, her brow tight and her cheeks hollow, even while she was unconscious.

"Miroku."

Inuyasha's face beside him was uncommonly tense, even for the aftermath of battle. His eyes had a blank, focused glare, and he stared down at the grass as though he expected it to suddenly raise swords, and chop at their feet.

"Walk with me."

Miroku turned away, and did as he was bid – it was obvious Kagome was anxious to get to Sango's injuries, and equally anxious for him to go away, so she could be sure he was not peeking.

_**As though I would, now. As though her wounds do not matter to me, as though…as though she did not trust me. Ah, Kagome. You do not know me as well as I thought.**_

He looked at Inuyasha out of the corner of his eye, but decided not to speak. It looked like Inuyasha was gathering himself for a query of particular importance, and if Miroku spoke, he would abandon his quest for information and run off bashing on the wrong track entirely.

"How do you tell a woman that you do not care for her – a woman that you know has strong feelings for you?"

Of all the things Miroku had expected, this was not one. He could not ask the question he really wanted to ask – he did not think he would get an answer, and there was not often a chance to get Inuyasha to listen to – _and really hear _– some good advice.

"It is simple - you must tell her, Inuyasha. Quickly, quietly, alone, and with as much gentleness as you can manage. Do not mince words, and do not pretend that there is a chance she may change your heart. And, Inuyasha – do not expect not to hurt her. If, as you say, a lady has strong feelings for you, it will not matter how you say you do not care – you are still saying you do not care."

_**But which one is it, Inuyasha?**_

Inuyasha nodded, and flexed his claws. Without another word, he ran off down the beaten path towards a gathering of trees several miles away. It was only then that Miroku saw the blue shimmer glittering through the trees, a faint glint through the trees, but unmistakable.

_**Kikyou. And what are you going to tell her?**_

_

* * *

  
_

Among the trees, Inuyasha found her as he knew he would, and he did not hesitate with his words. Seeing her unstuck his nerve, but his heart was strong behind his resolve. He was glad that she was here, now - that he had noticed her presence while he still had that image, the vision of Sango tumbling through the sky, in front of his eyes.  
"I saw Sango hurt today, Kikyou. Badly. We do not know if she will live. And while she was falling, and I saw that I would not catch her in time, I was -"

He swallowed, closed his eyes.

"What if Miroku had not saved her? She would have died, broken."

Kikyou turned her head sideways, looking at him with eyes that were hard and cold. She had not expected him to come to her so swiftly, and especially not with words like these.

"What are you trying to tell me, Inuyasha? Is the huntress your newest woman, now?"

He grabbed her arm, fierce and with half a growl in his throat.

"No! That is foolish – she is Miroku's. I would not…I do not…no."

Shaking his head, he released her.

"I thought, watching her fall, what if…what if it was Kagome? And it _hurt_ me – I have not known that kind of pain. And then I thought – what if it was _you_? Then I knew that it couldn't hurt you, that you've fallen much farther, and I knew…I knew I could not be with you."

He spoke deadly words.

"You are not...I can't love you now, Kikyou. I...I tried."

He turned luminous eyes in her direction, and they were soft.

"I am sorry, Kikyou."

Her face was fierce, her eyes just as bright as his now, but with furious tears.

"What is it, Inuyasha? What is it that she has, that I do not have – that I am not?"

He couldn't help it – he smiled, thinking of _her_.

"She is alive, Kikyou. Brilliant and glowing with life – and fierce. She is all woman, even though she is young. The essence of woman, with newness and openness and strange ideas from a different world. I cannot help loving her, Kikyou, and I cannot hurt her by letting her think that she is second in my heart. But I had to tell you, first. You…you deserve that."

He met her eyes again, a silent moment in which he felt her pain, almost as blinding and burning as his own.

"I am sorry."

Then he was gone – the trees swallowed him, and Kikyou was left alone amidst the green and gold. How could he choose _her_? How could he choose that child, that girl out of time?

Inuyasha sped back through the trees the way he had come, and the brushing arms of wind that wrapped around him as he moved helped to cleanse his thoughts. His eyes were full, and he dashed the sparkling from them with an eager sleeve. On the other end of this sad run was a helping, healing touch, and liquid eyes which salved him with warmth. This was how it should have been from the beginning – the past behind him, and Kagome in front.

When he returned to the place where Sango had fallen, Kagome was no where in sight. Miroku sat by Sango's side, holding her hand and peering intently into her face. The cut-off pieces of her exterminating outfit were piled next to her – her torso and left leg were wrapped in linen, and Kirara was curled into a singed ball by her feet. With a questioning glance, Inuyasha got his answer – Miroku pointed over his shoulder with a darting glance, and then turned back to Sango.

At the top of the hill they had crested before their dragon battle, Kagome sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly into the distance.

"Kagome."

Her eyes shifted to look at him, but she did not move.

"I thought you had left us for the night, Inuyasha."

He sat beside her, and gathered her close. She didn't know what to do – it was too unexpected. Once before he had done this, but then…there was no well here, to cast her into. Inuyasha could have been content just breathing her, feeling a warm, solid weight slide down his throat like a hot drink and settle above his heart.

"I had to find Kikyou, while I knew she was near. I had to tell her –"

He swallowed, and she felt his hands twitch against her skin. He was angry with himself now. Why was it so much harder to let out these words?

"I had to tell her that I had made my choice. I had to tell her I could not come to her any more, that she cannot claim me. I will seek my own vengeance on Naraku, and that is partly for her. But my life beyond vengeance…"

Kagome was held by his eyes.

"I will spend it with you, Kagome, if you will let me."

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A/N: And next is some lemon. And then...some more lemon! Sweet and sour, best of flavors...please review!


	3. Chapter 3

III.

Caressed

* * *

In the dark and the silence of peculiar to a manor house at night, Kagura slid open screen after screen, padding with bare feet down the long hallways in front of her sister. Kanna's hands always held the chilly shine of her soul-stabbing mirror, and there were long days when Kagura was nothing more than hands for Kanna; opening her doors and turning her keys.

The wind was indeed the hand of the void, but not in a menial way – not like this! Naraku delighted in making her do things that bent and broke her dignity, but she tried not to let him see that she knew. Far too often, she suspected, she failed. Why else would he hold her heart so tightly, squeezing it for a summons, or just a reminder?

Kagura watched her _sister_ move out of the corner of her eye, the small pale shape putting one foot in front of the other, eyes staring straight ahead, sallow, unblinking. There was a shine in Kanna's eyes, but it was a grey shine, a ghost shine, a dead shine. It made Kagura think of the dull gleam of lifeless fish scales; she shuddered. Behind her, the soft padding sound of feet did not stutter or diminish. The last door loomed in front of them; Kagura opened it quietly, and knelt just beyond the threshold.

Kanna's footsteps continued past Kagura, over the polished floorboards until she was standing by Naraku's side, and it was only then that the devil deigned to speak.

"Kagura. You will stay to watch this. Come _here_."

The sickening swoop of nausea that dropped like a stone from her chest to her belly was familiar, and infuriating. She obeyed. The hot pulse of her heart faded out of her awareness, and despite the pain, she missed the sensation. When she was full of the hurt, at least she was not empty.

"Who are we watching now, Naraku? Are you just a voyeur?"

She was pushing the limits of what he allowed, but her nerves were still on fire.

_He has no right!_

Naraku ignored her, and settled his chin into one hand. He touched on Kanna with a flicker of red eyes, and the white child took one more step forward, holding up her mirror.

"Show me Inuyasha."

Kagura's eyes flickered involuntarily towards the window, and she breathed a shallow sigh of relief. The moon was still waxing, barely past its half. She still did not know why she kept the secret; it was a secret that could have earned her greater freedoms, though not a pulse.

The image in the mirror kept her from questioning herself further; she was hard-pressed to keep a smug and taunting delight from shining across her face. The strange miko who resembled Kikyou was quite close to Inuyasha – quite close, and her clothing was half tatters, half hanging. Inuyasha's fangs lingered over the girl-miko's throat, and then dragged. Abruptly the girl's head fell back, and the expression on her face – her expression was somehow both tight, and open, completely enraptured.

A switch of arousal beat lightly in Kagura's blood, and she turned away from the mirror, studying Naraku instead.

_Voyeur, indeed. What are you going to do now, Naraku?_

Naraku growled, and both lust and puzzlement were visible on his face. He was almost snarling, and snapped at Kanna.

"Kikyou! Where is Kikyou?"

Usually the mirror rebounded from the undead priestess, who was much more adept at hiding herself from magical probing than Inuyasha or his new miko. Now, the picture they had been watching merely expanded, opening itself from a wider angle. The edge of the forest beside the lovers dominated the picture, and behind one of those trees was Kikyou, hugging the shadows.

The mirror's image cleared, and focused on her. It was obvious that she was distraught. Her hair was unbound, and the hard points of her nipples stood out against the white of her parted robe.

"Closer…"

Naraku's voice ground out of him in a long, boiling hiss. Obliging without a word, Kanna's mirror drew closer. Wide-eyed, entranced, _held_ against her own will, Kagura watched Kikyou's hands slide inside her clothes and the awakening expression of new pleasures that slipped onto her face.

Staring as though aware of her presence for the first time, Naraku's sudden glare cut through Kagura like a sword.

"Out. Now!"

She gathered her kimono in her fingers and ran down the hall, shutting the doors behind her.

* * *

In the dark trees, Kikyou ran her hands over her own body, feeling new sensations. Watching Inuyasha with the girl, she was filled less and less by bitterness, and more by a deep, drowning melancholy. Despite her heart, the mockery of her body could not help but respond. By themselves, her fingers knew where to go. She pulled her nipples gently, and let out a tiny gasp, feeling a hot tingle swoop down into her belly and rub warmly against the heat already nestled there.

Lower, and her eyes were locked on Inuyasha's slick skin, the flare of his hips down to his buttocks, the rhythmic motion of his hips that matched with the sighs and moans of the girl. Her own moans were also aligned, as her fingers moved over and over the round, hard nub that gave her so much pleasure.

Inuyasha let out a sudden howl, deeper than a wolf's. The arms and legs of the girl clenched around him, and the piercing tone of her own pleasure rose up and met him, scrabbling in the air. The sound relaxed for a moment, and Kikyou pulled her hands away from her body, and ran away into the trees.

_What is wrong with me? I am a priestess…I am miko! If I lose myself in flesh, I cannot touch the spirit. But the girl…Kagome. She gives herself to him, and how will she be of use to him now, without her power?_

Behind her, an explosion of violet light lit up the trees with a flare like a newborn star. She turned back, creeping forward with cautious fingers to part the screen of brush that hid her now, and stopped, fascinated.

Kagome was full of light. Her eyes and mouth poured light like water down a fall, and the _power_ in it! Undeniable. Inuyasha stood with one hand over his eyes, peering down at her, and the other wrapped around her waist, supporting her against his body The sight of him, naked and leanly muscled, stroked the dam of shivering desire living in Kikyou's skin, and she turned away into the forest again.

The trees were full of sounds and scurrying, but none of it was much distraction. She ached to sit down by a tree and strip off the garments that declared her curse and her patience, and bury herself in pleasure. How could the girl have Inuyasha, and power both? It was not fair. She had told Kagome – told Inuyasha – that the girl was no better than a copy, but in truth, was it not she, Kikyou, who was the copy?

The girl had life, and all she had to offer was a fragment of herself; literally. In a way that Kagome would never admit – and Kikyou smiled dully at the thought – she was, indeed, Kikyou. More of Kikyou than the walking remnant of her ashen flesh, held together by borrowed souls and animated by dark sorcery.

_She will hold him with all the desire we both possess, though that does not help me…now…_

She went on the alert without even noticing, and a few moments later located the source of her unease. A wolf, the leader of a tribe who aided Inuyasha. She had observed them well enough to know that the wolf sought Kagome, more than an alliance with Inuyasha.

Kouga stepped forward into her vision, and then ran forward and caught hold of her, pulling her haori back onto her shoulders and smoothing her hair.

"Where is Inu-baka, Kagome? How could he leave you like this, and why – why would you…be…"

She laughed, and pulled her clothes out of his fingers.

"You think I am Kagome, but your nose will tell you that is not true. Could you forget that I am not her? Is my face enough for you?

Kouga was confused, but she – whoever _she _was – was right. She could not be Kagome, this woman - she was cold, and she smelled very…very strange. But she was a likeness of his Kagome so exact it was frightening, and she was asking him strange questions. Without his hands to hold it closed, her haori had fallen open again, exposing one pale, perfect breast.

"You are…Kouga? For you, I am Kagome – take me. Take me, Kouga."

He reached for her, and stole a hungry, needing kiss from her lips before his name had finished leaving them. He knew – he knew! – that she was not _his Kagome, _but she was so close, and half dressed, and begging him to take her, take her, take her. Kikyou spoke stronger words then, and reached with bold hands, still hesitant, to open his shirt.

"Pretend I am that girl. Pretend I am Kagome. I want to know – I want to know what it is like to be her. I want to remember how it feels…how it feels…"

_How it feels to be alive._

Because it was obvious he did not know her nature, because she knew that to him she was only a copy of Kagome, she did not finish. It didn't matter – he was not concerned with her words, just the curve of her throat and the weight of her breasts and the soft, wet petals that writhed over his hands.

He felt the smooth contractions begin in her pelvis and move down in ecstatic waves to squeeze his fingers, buried in velvet. When she moaned, and lay her head against his shoulder, raising her leg to wrap around his hip, he slid deep inside of her with one swift and gentle motion.

Kikyou cried, and shuddered, and succumbed to Kouga, and when he looked down at the vulnerable closeness of her face, reaching, she was Kagome. She felt it, the change in him, and sighed, closing her eyes, holding onto the feeling. For a moment, she had remembered – being alive.

It was enough.

* * *

In the deepest part of the night, when Miroku knew that Inuyasha and Kagome would both be lodged together in an exhausted sleep, he crept to Sango's bedside and lifted her hand, squeezing gently. A dream flickered across her face, and he bent slowly, and pressed his lips to her forehead. She had survived their journey back to this place; he had waited, thinking and wishing she would wake up...but he couldn't wait any more. Time...time was running out.

"I have to go now, Sango. Now, or I will never have a chance. Kagome will not leave you, and Inuyasha will not leave her. None of you deserve to die for me. I...cannot promise I will be back. Good-bye, Sango."

He shouldered the small package he had set aside, and hefted his staff, and slunk out into the night. Through the long night before, and the long day afterwards, he had been thinking. There was not much else to do. Kaede tended Sango from the moment they returned with her until she had to sleep, and then woke to tend her again. Inuyasha and Kagome disappeared for the long hours of the night, and the whole stretch of the day. He would have asked what they were doing, but it was too obvious even for jokes.

Inuyasha had come into the village their first morning back with a dazedly happy expression, responding politely to the few villagers who greeted him. The source of that expression was asleep in his arms, securely wrapped not only in the fire-rat haori, but Inuyasha's kosode, and while before he had been reluctant even to allow her to examine his wounds, now her cheek was pressed against his naked chest, and he seemed quite pleased by the arrangement.

While everyone was distracted, Miroku had come to his decision. Sango deserved a life, and while she was wounded she could not follow him was the time to go - the time to see if he could live long enough to give her what she deserved. Inuyasha and Kagome could not lose what they had just found – it would not be fair. Despite their desire for vengeance, it was not their _need_ that Naraku be defeated soon – only his. Five years, ten years from now, they could still be fighting. When the summer rolled the seasons around again, _he_ might be dead.

He was going alone, and he would stay alone. Inuyasha could look for him, but would have no idea which direction he had traveled in. The night winds would aid him, and the heavy summer air was thick with moisture and the scents of flowers. Half his brain was berating him for bothering with the advice of an enemy, but as she had said, he could not afford not to risk it.

_You are running out of time, Houshi. _

The wind rose behind him, shaking the heads of the trees like rag dolls and sending a spiral of fresh green leaves down around his shoulders.

_Do not waste this chance._

He shook his head, and continued on into the night.

* * *

A/N: Yes. That was Kikyou, and Kouga...and no, I'm not crazy. Quite honestly I think its the only thing that makes sense. Someone commented once that Kouga would never want an 'undead' but...haha. And anyway, he's a demon! He should be...demony. Please review, even if you _do_ think I'm crazy!


	4. Chapter 4

IV.

The Still and Silent Dance

* * *

The long, quiet miles opened emptily across Miroku's vision. His third dawn alone was thick with a cold and clinging mist, sticking to leaves and grass like glue. Despite the chill, he was vaguely amused as he struggled through the greenery like the drenched-sleeved lover of Chinese poetry, fresh from some moonlit tryst.

His thoughts drew back, and back, and back, until they touched on the journey that he had begun alone, the single shard of the shikon no tama and the name of Naraku – always Naraku. Somehow, those travels had not seemed as lonely as this new quest, undertaken by will and desperate hope instead of real duty. The destiny that had been woven for him was gathering together from many threads into one strong rope, binding him on the course he had chosen.

If he kept his imagination taut, he could draw a whole lifetime of normal skills and pleasures, from the childhood he had watched to the man he had become. His imagined self was lighter, and more carefree, but not as strong. Naraku had made him into who he was, just as much as he had made himself by choices.

"I wonder if Sango…"

He startled himself with the sound of his own words. When he had traveled by himself, sometimes he had talked out loud, as though his voice needed keeping in practice. Habits returned so quickly, but he felt strange. He had not really been talking to himself – he had expected an answer, Inuyasha's grunt, or Kagome's ripple of laughter, or perhaps the low sigh of Sango's chuckle.

Sango.

He had kept himself from thinking of her, purposefully. It would do him no good to dwell on an injury he could not heal, and it would have been just like her to stride off on his hopeless quest before she was recovered. He frowned. Would she do something like that, and come after him? For a moment he tensed, and then sighed and shook his head. Kagome would never allow it, and Inuyasha would understand and talk her out of it gruffly. Or maybe not so gruffly, now that he had claimed Kagome.

His thoughts were wandering, from the past into the various futures that might be. If he went to this mountain, and received the blessing of a saint, and his curse was lifted, that would lead him on a better life. He could never stop hunting Naraku, not while he lived – but to have it be a choice, instead of the only way to save his own life!

More and more, Miroku wondered at Kagura's motives. Naraku had never shown an _interest_ in him, not like Inuyasha or Kagome, not like Kikyou, who he hunted and tormented and sought, despising and lusting in the same breath. Why, then, would it be to Naraku's advantage to lead him away? If he tried to separate them, one by one, it would not succeed. Only Kohaku had any hold over Sango now, and she had learned the hard way that she could not fight for his freedom alone. Inuyasha and Kagome – they were Inuyasha and Kagome. Now, even Kikyou could not come between them.

His heart beat faster, anticipating the possibilities of the truth. To live! They had never been close enough to destroying Naraku for him to contemplate the potential – days, nights, springs, and winters - he stopped, and stared around him.

The low rise on which he stood was tall enough to break through the mists, burning off now as the sun rose higher in the sky. A familiar youkai presence was approaching him quickly, and he waited patiently while a cloud of dust approached him and then settled to the ground.

"Kouga, I am surprised to see you."

"I've been looking for you, Houshi, since I caught your scent away from the others. You can help me! Something…something strange happened, and now I don't know if it was real or not. I'm not…eh!"

The wolf prince shook his head, and the shake quivered down his whole body.

"Spirits!"

Another shiver sped through him, and Kouga pinned Miroku with eyes that darted, both ferocious and frightened.

"Last night, I was coming to find Kagome, when I caught the Inu-baka's scent. I never made it, I never came…there was a woman, or a dream, or a tennyo! She had Kagome's face, and Kagome's voice, and I thought she was Kagome, running at me half-dressed with a wild face. But she said she was not Kagome, and the scent of her told me this was true. She was cold, so cold, but she looked so much like…"

Kouga paused, fumbling in his words, obviously unsure of how to continue. Miroku's face had grown taut, and was losing its color.

"She asked me to pretend she was Kagome – said that for me, she was Kagome, and gave herself to me. I thought that she was Kagome, while I – and afterwards, despite...everything, I wanted to believe she was...but when I woke she was gone, and there was not a scent or a strand of her hair. You know spirits, Houshi. What spirit was it that found me last night?"

Miroku moved his mouth wordlessly, soundlessly, at first too shocked, too numb to make a sound. His thoughts were scrambled and slippery, but finally he forced out the word, the name, the incomprehensible name.

"Kikyou."

"Huh?"

Kouga was confused. That did not sound like the name of a spirit, or the confirmation of a dream. Miroku's sigh was heavy, and his explanation short.

"Not a spirit. Kikyou. Kagome is her reincarnation – that is why they share a face."

"Reincarnation? But - "

The monk's shaking head cut him off.

"If you continue asking these questions, Kouga, you will only disturb yourself. Suffice it to say that it is true, it is complicated, and it would be wise of you not to _ever_ mention what you just told me in the hearing of Inuyasha - or Kagome."

The wolf huffed, waving off the warning.

"You don't need to tell me. The scent of their mating was all over these woods this morning. I can't believe she chose the mutt!"

His anger was half-hearted – Kouga was distracted by the memory of his spirit woman, who now had a name.

_Kikyou_.

"Where are you going, Houshi? The sounds this morning were distressed, but I couldn't…."

Miroku nodded; he understood all too well why Kouga couldn't. He had seen the pair coming back from between the trees - the first day, and the second...

"I am traveling south. I have heard tell of a sacred mountain, whose patron saint may be powerful enough to lift the curse I live under."

He raised his hand, and clenched the fingers around the beads.

"It is dangerous, and unlikely to succeed, and Sango is badly wounded. I could not let the others follow me – this has nothing to do with Naraku, and the only benefit is to my life. I know they are my friends, but I cannot endanger them for the sake of myself Especially…especially not considering the source of my information."

Kouga raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"What source could be so risky?"

Miroku spoke simply.

"Kagura."

* * *

"Kagura!"

The brooding anger that yowled in Naraku's voice did not bode well for the sorceress so summoned. She could not follow his voice, but she could follow the pain that lured her, the pain that had long before become monotony, still agony, making her another puppet on his string.

"It is time to draw out the Wolf, Kagura. It is you he desires for vengeance, it is you he will come to. When he is found, you will kill him. I desire...his shards."

She looked down and shadows made slashes across her face. Her eyes burned, darkening from their usual crimson to bloody burgundy, more antagonism in them than the promised combat required. The words that flashed into her thoughts were tight and prickling. If she said them, would he destroy her? Would he dare? She would wield his own bones against him.

_It is as though Kikyou's flesh is really his, as though he has something to protect. The miko would cringe if she knew. But what is her appeal now, if not to memory? Naraku has not lost all that he thinks he has lost. _

The inner laughter must have showed in her eyes. Naraku held up an orb with a red glow, darker than fire and more precious to her than diamonds. Kagura shut her eyes, waiting for the pain. It ran through her veins like ice and penetrated muscles and up into her skin with fangs and claws.

"Now. Go from me, and wait for a messenger. You will be led to your prey on a leash, if that is what it takes to get you there."

Without meaning to, she sucked in a breath that betrayed which pain was more stinging.

_A leash!_

When she was out in the cooling air, her blood burned hotter. How many times had she been sent after this mangy wolf? It was not his power that kept him alive, it was an absurd luck. No matter what she did, he stayed alive. Long before he had proved himself worthy of life as far as she was concerned, but _he_ desired only her death. It was odd how she felt guilt for those dead wolves, their blank eyes boring holes in her memory, the whisper of silent voices prodding at her.

What apology would be worthwhile? She was suddenly full of a desire to choose her own prey, to find someone that _deserved_ death and give it to them. Weariness filled her, thinking of the wolf. She was tired, so tired of this game, of Naraku's desire, of living wrapped up around the panic of her heart. If the wolf died, Inuyasha would be weaker. If she died, Naraku would be weaker.

_I wonder what it is like to make a choice. I wonder if I can make one, even now. I wonder if the wolf knows that my blood is also red. _

A thin smile spread across her lips with melting efficiency, and she let her fingers stroke the hard edge of her fan, claws quietly tapping. While she watched the ground fly by beneath her, a buzzing penetrated her thoughts.

_Saimyoushou!_

She turned with eyes and face suddenly frozen to follow on the path drawn for her through the shivering air.

_A leash, Naraku. Very well. But not one you will ever attach to my throat again! _

_

* * *

  
_

Miroku wandered alongside Kouga, not quite sure of how or why they had come to this particular arrangement, but it seemed to be working well...for now. He was quite aware of his own weaknesses, the human frailties that were his despite strength of spirit. And Kouga….Kouga needed a watchful eye and a chance to figure out what had happened in the long night just past. He was youkai; he did not understand how a woman could come and go as she pleased and leave _nothing_ behind.

Kouga did not understand Kikyou or her nature; he did not know that there was never anything left behind her but that _nothing_, still thick, still present. Above them the trees nodded their heads in agreement with his thoughts – and then he stopped, and stared up at the wavering trees. He remembered this feeling, the same dancing of the leaves, and reached forward to stop Kouga with a hand on his arm.

"We are watched, Kouga."

The wolf turned his face into the freshening breeze and closed his eyes, seeking, seeking. When they opened again, they were streaked with red and his face was tight with fury.

"It is Kagura! You must go from here. This time, I will kill her. You know why her blood is mine; do not interfere!"

Miroku stepped back into the trees, watching. He felt traitorous, as though he had somehow lured Kagura to her death. Kouga had never seemed to have the power to kill her, but now he had a darker fury.

_Perhaps Kikyou was good for him…_

It was a wincing thought, but sometimes Miroku couldn't help himself. The situation was ridiculous, and had been for four years. His eyes encompassed the slow steps of Kagura, but she did not speak, did not taunt like he remembered. The play of battle unfolded like he had never seen, never expected. She stood, and held her fan by one end piece. It unfolded down at the tug of the earth, and hung limply from her fingers. Her eyes closed; there was stillness in her features.

Kouga attacked, a whirlwind of claws to cause gripping pains, slashing and biting. Soon even Miroku could smell the scent of her blood, and then taste it, thick and clinging to the air. Kagura did not move. The wind was dead, the air unmoving, the leaves still and silent like the deepest, most breathless night of summer's heat.

He couldn't watch. She was _sacrificing_ herself, not working Naraku's will. Had he sent her because he knew Kouga had touched Kikyou? That was information that must come to Kagome, then. Kagome, but not Inuyasha. Even if she was now his mate, she was wise enough to know. And Kagura – what debt did he owe her, and what could she tell him, if she died this empty death for vengeance's sake?

"Kouga! That is enough! Look at her!"

Kouga was looking, but not seeing. His eyes were blank with a glare of bloodlust and his fingers were bright with Kagura's blood. Miroku took another step forward into the clearing, and Kagura's eyes opened the slightest glimmer, a seam of red beneath her lashes. The wind rippled through the grass, making a noise like water.

With a blow that arched, Kouga struck through Kagura's right arm and down into the flesh of her shoulder. She shuddered, and fell. It was not one motion; she dropped slowly, first to her knees, and then forward. Miroku took another step, and held out a warning hand in Kouga's direction.

"Save your vengeance for Naraku, Kouga. She has not raised a finger, or a fan against you this whole battle – what honor is served by destroying a defenseless woman?"

Kouga's snarl twisted his handsome face into something truly demonic, something ugly.

"Naraku is not enough! She is not defenseless – if she chooses not to defend, it is not my problem!"

"Kouga!"

The snarl widened, darkened, and gained its own life and breath. Again the air fell deadly calm, and Miroku watched the life fall out of the leaves with flashing eyes. Why did they all have to be so damn stupid?

Kagura stayed on the ground, bleeding from half a hundred slashing wounds, and when her eyes fluttered shut, Miroku could have sworn he saw relief in them, saw her turning to welcome death. It made him...angry.

"Enough!"

He strode forward between them, halting Kouga with the presence of his body, and lifted Kagura's limp shape in his arms. It was the strangest thing he had ever done, but it felt _right_, and besides – she weighed almost nothing, as though he were carrying the wind itself.

Kouga was snarling, close to the true shape of the beast within himself, but Miroku's mind was made up, his temper rising hot.

"I said enough! She serves Naraku with no more will than you would do, if – "

He stopped. It was not his secret to reveal.

"She does not serve him because she wishes to. You have defeated her, beaten her, broken her, and I would not be surprised if she suffers from Naraku's...displeasure...because she has again failed to kill you."

The hardness in Miroku's face turned wan, and the flush of angry color began to fade away.

"Didn't you notice that she stayed still, moving not even her eyes? Your rage blinded you. Be content that she has bled for your loss, and move from vengeance to grief."

Kouga turned to face him with tight fists but better control, sneering through his words.

"There will come a day when she does not have you to protect her, and I will kill her. That day, she _will_ fight me – but she still will die. I would still kill her, but Kagome would never forgive me if I hurt you."

Miroku did not speak. He turned, and carried Kagura away from Kouga and the lash-stains her blood had left on the grass. Her deadly fan dangled from one hand, and he tugged it gently away with his free fingers, and tucked it inside his robe.

She had come to him once with an offer of aid, but many more times he had suffered beneath her winds. If she woke while he was near her, he would not allow her the chance to do the same again. Kouga did not follow. Part of him understood the wolf's desire for vengeance, the need to kill. His pack had been destroyed, family, friends – perhaps lovers and children, he did not know the details of Kouga's life. What Miroku could not understand was the desire for blood when it was obvious she was not going to fight.

The wounds that had been slashed into Kagura's skin described the way her body had presented itself to Kouga's claws, undefended. Some of her injuries would have worried him, reaching so deeply into her flesh, but even while he carried her the raw red edges were beginning to reach for each other, pink tissues sealing under the blood.

A few miles down the road, he stopped by a small shrine and laid her across the kneeling-stone before the altar. He bowed his head, praying silently.

_Though she is a demon, I do not think this woman's heart unworthy of shelter here, for while it may reside in the hands of another, her thoughts and feelings remain her own. She feels the taint of actions for which evil would feel no guilt. Merciful Buddha, perhaps even youkai are blessed by your notice – if this is so, your servant asks that you guard and guide this woman. _

For a long while, he stood contemplating his prayer and turning her fan over and over in his hands. The demonic aura was stronger from the fan than it was from Kagura herself. While half his brain screamed at him, trying to convince him that this was stupid, stupid, stupid, his hand moved, and lay the fan beside her. He smiled, and tapped the hard edge with a fingertip, whispering to himself.

"After all, what good would it really do? Death is death, not freedom."

Suddenly full of silence, he turned away and continued down the southward road. In the dream of her healing unconsciousness, Kagura heard his whisper though not the voice that made it, and for a single moment, sparkling like rain, she understood and knew that he spoke a penetrating truth.

_Death is death, not freedom._

_

* * *

_A/N: Ah, angry Kouga. He really does have a reason, though. But since killing Kagura won't bring his pack back to life, and it may just save Miroku...go Miroku! Go! Next Chapter: "


	5. Chapter 5

V.

Red Summer Rain

* * *

At the edge of a small, clear stream with a slow current, Inuyasha stopped to drink and duck his head under the water. The moment of coolness was a welcome relief, and while he crouched and shook water from his ears, a split line of thought rattled inside his head.

_I do not like to have left Kagome alone for this long. Sango is no help – Sango is danger! She smells of blood…_

Kagome had pled with him to search for Miroku, but he had adamantly refused to leave her until another entire night had passed, and there was no sign of the Houshi returning. He was first of all angry with himself that Miroku had escaped notice when he left – but many nights lately Miroku had wandered away from the campsite, sleepless, and there had been that night…and so he waited. And now he had waited too long. Kagome would be angry, and say that he had not listened.

_I should not have left my mate. _

He lifted his head, searching with delicate nostrils, tuned to their task. For a while, he had hoped, but now, after four days, there was nothing to remind him of the monk who might have passed. Inuyasha could not even find the direction Miroku had traveled. While the summer air had grown steadily thicker, moving slower under the sun, at night it was still whipped into brisk travels across the land.

The current wind brought many scent-trails to him – Kouga had approached, and then retreated. The awakened burn of youkai printed a rakish grin dark with fangs across his face. Mating-scent was in these woods still, twisting through the wind that he tasted. Kagome was in that scent – _he_ was in that scent, and he knew why Kouga had left without coming to them, and was glad.

The voice was laughing for him, though his smile had not changed, and his thoughts were turned inward to the presence that Tetsusaiga no longer seemed to contain. Instead of a desperate death, instead of rage, it was a sound that clung to the edges of his thoughts, whispering in caressing tones.

_Because I have claimed my mate, and she is…Kagome._

Kagome knew. Before he had touched her, the red had come for him, covering his senses in a thick cloak, and the first kiss had broken him, breaking her. At the first taste of her blood, the first pulse that brought him the scent of her desire, he felt the risking of youkai and could not contain it.

He had seen for the first time in both the red-vision of the Beast and the clear world of his usual view. The voice was dark, a growl in the tones of the faded thought of 'father' that lingered near the memory of his birth.

The longer he was away from Kagome, the more the voice of the beast grew. He sympathized with it, understood it, but _mate_ required the return of their companion. Said companion should not have left in the darkness, should not have gone without a word, should not have made it necessary to search. If Sango were to wake, and Miroku were not there – what then?

Soon Inuyasha would have to return with empty words and no Miroku. He did not know what words or actions would be of use to comfort Kagome, except that there was also no smell of blood or death.

He allowed his nose to twitch, sorting through the scents around him one last time as he leapt forward another mile or so with light, bounding steps. He caught on Kouga's fading scent, biting back laughter from his youkai self. Beneath it, there was another, darker smell that he barely dared to contemplate.

_Kikyou_

His youkai rose in fury with the thought. That was a name that brought hurt to mate. The cold scent was only an underlay, a taste like soil that hugged all the places where Kouga's scent lingered.

Kouga – Kikyou. An odd presence. Could the wolf have seen Miroku? Perhaps Kouga had crossed a fresher current of scent farther away. The trail of Kouga's scent led off between the trees, looping over itself and then burning a path in a wide southward arc. While he thought of this, a thick, clean scent rushed over him in the next breeze, and he cursed silently.

Rain was coming, heavy summer rain, but he no longer trusted even the clouds and Kagome was alone in the village with Sango and Shippou. With a snarl, he turned away from the tempting scents, and ran back towards them the way he had come, seeking the swiftest route. As fast as he ran, the rain was faster, and his ears flattened under the onslaught while he berated himself.

_I should not have left her alone…she is so fragile, so human! What if she is caught outside in this rain? Even without demons to harm her, she could catch something; she could die of the summer sickness! _

When he reached the village, his fears died. Kagome's scent was strong and vital, reaching him through the rain. He was still outside when she came to the door, alerted by new senses that were related only to him, and he was content with her warm, snuggling desires, the shy squeeze of her arms.

She was his mate, now. He had no need to be shy. His growl was low enough not to reprimand, but still strong enough to reach her ears. This one sound she had learned quickly, the instruction that it gave bringing a warm thrill to dark places, and his smile of awareness was rough. Kagome tilted her head back, offering her throat, a mate's act of trusting submission, and he gentled her with his teeth, pressing his fangs lightly where he knew they would elicit a pleasing gasp.

When she relaxed into his arms, and pressed her ear against his heartbeat the way she liked to do, he murmured into her hair, soothing with a growl even as he spoke.

"I did not find Miroku. Not a scent or sight or sound of him, not a campsite or wind-rumor."

He paused, and closed his eyes. She reached up with one hand to touch his cheek, and turn his face towards her.

"It is not your fault, Inuyasha. I knew before I asked that you would not leave us, and I knew…he did not want to be found. If he did, why leave without telling us?"

They sat in silence for a while, Kagome staring into space, Inuyasha staring at her.

"He has been silent, and restless lately, Inuyasha. Do you know why?"

"No. But the other night, before I came to you, before I…it was Miroku who helped me find the right words to say. I wanted to thank him…I…ran off before."

Kagome laughed, and ran her fingers through his wet hair, brushing it out of his face.

"You always do, Inuyasha. You always do."

* * *

Miroku returned to Kouga empty – handed, and stood in silence, waiting. When Kouga did not give him words or fists to deal with, he sighed, and pressed his fingers to his temples.

"You intended to travel with me, Kouga. I am not averse to company – I understand that vengeance pulls you, but she is the only one who knows where I must go. I - need her."

Kouga snarled, clenching and unclenching his fingers. The gaze that filtered down through red desires to land on Miroku cleansed itself by inches.

"You need her alive? I will make you a trade then, Houshi. Tell me about my spirit woman, and I will let the wind-witch live until you no longer have a use for her."

Miroku caught him on the edge of his glance, and probed to the fullest of all his senses for the truth.

"You swear this? You will not attack her, will not harm her, will not kill her?"

Kouga's smile was all teeth.

"I swear it. But when you are through with her – her life is mine."

* * *

When she woke, he was gone. The drifting tide of clouds across the sky broke onto Kagura's eyes through the spaces in the slats of the small shrine's roof. She allowed herself to blink slowly, acknowledging that while her entire body ached as though she had been flung into a pit of knives, blinking did _not_ hurt. That was good. That was very good.

One at a time, she lifted her fingers, and decided that they, too, did not really hurt. Toes? Hands? Feet? Satisfied that her extremities were in working order, she decided to attempt standing, or perhaps just sitting up.

Pain shot fiery tendrils from across her chest and abdomen down through her legs. Despite it, she forced her waist to bend, stretching her legs out in front of her and pushing herself up on her left arm. Now that she was sitting and could see herself, the pains redoubled with the press of knowledge on her senses.

The wounds _were_ like knife wounds, but the curve of the slashes and the depth of their penetration reminded her that it had been claws that cut her. Her right arm and shoulder was a blaze of blood and pain; she could barely bend her elbow, though her fingers and wrist were fine

Why was she alive? The wolf had been certain of killing her, so intent on his vengeance that he did not care she was not fighting – that would not matter to him, not as long as she still bore the scent of her own flesh. Why, then, would he stop so close to finishing the job, and then bring her _here?_ She did not know the deity which the figure in this shrine commemorated, but it wouldn't have mattered.

Youkai did not frequent shrines, no matter the god they honored. She was surrounded by the windy scent that followed her everywhere, the smell of her own blood and the smell of the wolf, but something else lingered in the odors around her body. It was specific, a person that she knew, but it was so light after the passage of time she could not immediately define it.

A picture flashed into her mind, a moment suspended – she saw dimly a man's mouth moving, and the a blur of face up to eyes, such odd eyes, violet-brown. After the motion came the sound, words that she remembered again from the moment before the black surrounded her memory -

_Death is death, not freedom._

Freedom, so often suspended before her on a wire of Naraku's sadistic devising. Freedom, the ambrosia which her soul craved, the sweet paradise of her only dream. What did he know - that...Houshi!

_The Houshi!_

Who else would bring her to a shrine, and save her from the wolf? He was the only one with a reason - but...the hanyou and the women were not near them. Had he come alone? How wise, and how foolish! A single human alone in the wide wilderness of demons would not last long. Still, where she was sending him, the hanyou could not have gone. Perhaps even the slayer-woman could not have entered, so stained with blood was she.

The miko, and the Houshi, then – but an Inu would not allow his mate to go without him into danger.

Perhaps he had been less foolish than she thought, but not for reasons that he would know about. She had not given him enough information for him to come to such conclusions. If the Houshi could get to the mountain, he would be safe even from Naraku. She knew his evil could never enter there – and so did he.

The Houshi must have kept her alive for information. If he had come alone, he would be in sore need of something to assuage his suspicions that he had come out on a pointless endeavor, but the knowledge that his own death was fast approaching would act as a more terrible goad than he could ever accuse her of being.

Nervous fingers encountered something hard on the stone floor beside her. The shape was instantly familiar, a lean and obnoxious mystery that spread like a fog before her other thoughts.

_My fan…_

He had left her the weapon with which she had so often attacked him, and now that she pressed her memory, seeking reason, she knew with complete certainty that his was the face that had given her those precious words, the link to life that she had lost on the way to choice.

_Death is death, not freedom_.

Could he possibly understand? Did he know the meaning of the word that haunted her, day and night, waking and dreaming?

_Freedom_.

Naraku did not yet call her – so she would not return. She would follow the Houshi, and learn what he knew, and make him tell her – make him _teach_ her – the meaning of free.

* * *

A/N: Good Kouga. Hackles _down._ And Kagura - way more fun to write than I expected. Coming son: evil, plotting!


	6. Chapter 6

VI.

The Fragile

* * *

The narrow red slash of Naraku's eyes darted around the room. Except for that, he looked as if he was waiting patiently, until he began to tap his fingers against the floor. It was a lazy sound, _tap-tap-tap_, _tap-tap-tap_, his hand hanging off his lap so that his fingers barely brushed the floor. There was a faint sound, the swish of an opening shoji screen, and his eyes turned with a swiftness that betrayed their focus. The fingers stopped – stillness filled the air.

"It has taken you three days to respond to my summons, Kohaku. What is the difficulty?"

The blank eyes of the boy stared back at him - the boy's whole being stared back at him, unmoving. The voice that came from those twelve year old lips was heavy and brittle, just as unfeeling as his eyes, as expressionless as his face.

"I followed demon-scent which was like the hanyou, Master Naraku. This was your order. The summons is a greater order. I was far when it reached me, and turned back."

Naraku's eyes had already widened the briefest fraction, oozing sharp inquisitiveness.

"The source of the demon scent – did you find it?"

Kohaku shook his head.

"No, Master Naraku. You summoned me – I came."

The curl of responding lips would have curdled new milk.

"And as you followed it, where did it lead?"

Kohaku's empty eyes closed, as he followed his steps backward in memory.

"First to the southwest, in a wide circle that did not encroach on the wolf-territory; then back to the north. When it turned, I noticed the strangeness in it. It is of Inuyasha, yet it is not Inuyasha."

"That is good. You will no longer concern yourself with this. I am sending you now on a larger task. You will go out, and you will find Kikyou!"

The thinning smile on Naraku's face reached between them, resonating with controlling powers.

"Yes, Master Naraku."

Naraku stood slowly, an unrelenting push of dark energy growing and pulsating in his palm. A large shard of the shikon jewel glistened in his hand, glowing with an eerie light both red and black.

"You will take this before you go. This shard has been infused with my essence. The miasma will strengthen you."

With a brutal twist, Naraku forced the darkened shard into the flesh of Kohaku's right shoulder. A dark glow grew and leapt down the boy's arm like a flash of black fire. The hardened grossness of Naraku's will burned through Kohaku, infiltrating the blankness of his eyes. They gained a flashing spark that reflected the heart of evil, the soul of hell.

"Do not forget, Kohaku. Kikyou retains the powers of a miko, but she has no flesh – she is undead. Kanna waits for you outside. She has a gift for Kikyou, which you must bring to her. Go now, and return when you have completed this task."

Kohaku bowed, and retreated behind the screens that had allowed him in. A slim, pale figure in glistening white, Kanna was waiting for him as Naraku had said she would be. She looked like a slip of girl, but her power was the most sinister of all Naraku's_ children_, her appearance making her all the more terrifying to those who knew her true nature.

The mirror that chained her power was dark and steady in her hands. With a pale wisp of a voice, as emotionless as his own, Kanna addressed Kohaku and held out her mirror.

"_Tamashi_ are held inside. Reach carefully!"

The warning was pointless and unnecessary. Blindly, with a will not his own, Kohaku reached forward into the mirror. The glass was not glass – it gave under his fingers like frozen syrup, thick and clinging.

When his arm was held nearly to the elbow, his grasping fingers felt something hard and cold. He pulled forward, and only then did the mirror resist, wisps and particles making his whole body tingle from the immersion in strange energies.

When he had it out, he held the object up, looking, turning it in his hands. Naraku had said 'A gift for Kikyou'.

"That is _jishaku no tamashi_, the magnet of souls. It has a hold over the soul, but to the dead it is irresistibly attractive – it calls them."

Kanna's soft voice faded into nothing, and she stepped away, and passed beyond the screens. Kohaku stood, holding a short, pointed cylinder of some black, unyielding stone, and though he knew he held it in his hand, he could not feel its presence there. It was frictionless, drinking the light and withholding it, radiating a dark and subtle power that yet he felt. It was…magnetic.

While he stood holding it, probing the distance with burning red eyes, Kanna returned and stood by his side.

"I can show you where the miko has been – you must find where she is from there."

An image appeared on the surface of the mirror, slightly blurred. The clearing it showed was not familiar, but the trees that grew there grew only to the south and east. As he watched, the picture shifted, leading away from the trees in a swirl of color and coming to rest on the edge of a riverbank. A bucket lay by the side of the water, tilted on one side.

Woodenly, he turned away from the mirror and jogged out towards the horizon, the gathering sunset red on his back. His footsteps pounded out a rhythm that was repeated inside his head, replaying names and words.

_Kikyou. Jishaku no Tamashi. Kikyou. Jishaku no Tamashi. Kikyou…Kikyou…Kikyou…_

* * *

"What else do you want me to tell? Inuyasha no longer speaks of her; it is too painful for Kagome to hear him speak her name. I have not asked too many questions of him – I have no reason to know of her. Sometimes she was our enemy, and sometimes – "

Miroku stopped, and shook his head with a glint of faint amusement in his eyes. Since they had made their _agreement_, Kouga had been questioning him non-stop.

_About Kikyou..._

He still couldn't really believe it.

"Sometimes she was something else. I don't know what, really. She has been the bane of our battle, and yet she has also sent more than one arrow out of the darkness to save us."

Kouga shook his head, and took a few swift steps forward, peering ahead, and even further with nose and ears.

"What about her family? Who are her parents? Does she have a home, or does she wander like Kagome?"

Miroku laughed shortly, and contemplated briefly telling Kouga about his precious Kagome's origins.

_What a conversation that would be…but he would never believe me. One of these days - if he ever sees her go down the well, and not come up again…_

He could not prevent a grin from following his laughter, but turned quickly grave, and stared forward at Kouga, paused now between trees, crouching in the undergrowth.

"She most definitely wanders – but not like Kagome. I know nothing of Kikyou's aims, or purposes, except that until quite recently she desired Inuyasha's life – to bring him to the underworld with her. He would have gone with her, but Kagome changed that. You...know."

The clenching of Kouga's fists was not as tight or as quick as Miroku had expected, and the sigh that filtered through the unclenching was thick but light.

"And her family?"

Miroku hesitated.

"I…know of her sister, only. Nothing of their parents, and I do not believe there was another sibling. The name of her sister is Kaede; she is the miko of the village where our group often stays."

Kouga's brows drew together pensively, brooding over this unexpected piece of information.

"You say they are sisters, but I have heard of this Kaede and she is old. 'Kaede-baa-chan', Kagome calls her. My spirit woman is young, and her flesh is soft with youth even while it lacks warmth!"

Miroku couldn't let him go on. With disbelief heavy in his voice, he penetrated the frothing tide of Kouga's words.

"Have you forgotten everything I already told you? Do you not remember that she is the one who Naraku desired when she had a human form, _fifty_ years ago? Not five minutes ago, I told you that! How could you sleep with her and not know her nature? _Kikyou does not have flesh_!"

Kouga was taken aback by Miroku's fierceness, shocked into silence.

"She does not have flesh, or muscles, or skin, and the bone within her is the ground dust of her burned self. She is made of herbs, and sorcery, and mud, burial-clay and bone ash. The only true life she carries is a fragment of Kagome's soul!"

Miroku expected horror, or panic, or disgust – not the burning eyed look that touched him.

"I may not have known all of this, Houshi, but I knew she was not human – I knew she was not Kagome. Except…afterward – afterward, she was warm for a moment. Almost glowing."

With a sudden surge of inexplicable and undeserved anger, Kouga turned back to Miroku and covered the ten steps between them in a breaths' worth of time.

"Tell me, Houshi, since you know so much – why did she go? Why would she leave me without a word?"

Miroku's anger pushed back at him, equally hot, equally inexplicable.

"I already told you, I know nothing of her motives! You are such a fool, Kouga! You find a woman in the forest, and she seems to desire you, and she has Kagome's face. So without a thought for consequences, without a question, you take her, and then expect the first one you meet who knows her name to tell you her life and her reasoning – to save you from that foolishness!"

Kouga stood stock-still and stared with a gaping jaw, cowering just a little. Miroku had risen over him on tiptoes with a blazing aura of houriki and a menacing staff, which was still darting threateningly close to his head.

"It was not a time for questions, Houshi. There was nothing…it was an enchantment without an enchanter, a moment no man can understand until it comes on him. It _will_ come on you – there is no doubt of that – and when it does, tell me again of foolishness."

The air around them had gathered in stillness, flecked with darkness.

"You wish to know more of Kikyou, Kouga? Very well. I will tell you the long –short story which I know of her. A piece of this, not even Inuyasha knows – because I have not told him."

Kouga's eyes grew large and hungry.

"Tell me!"

The growling baseness of possession was already beginning to flame in his voice. Miroku had heard it run over Kagome's name too many times not to recognize it.

"When she was alive, Kikyou was miko, one of the strongest of our time. She was the training companion of Tsubaki, who became kuromiko. In the days after she returned to her home village, a group of demon-slayers from the village of Sango came, bringing with them the sacred jewel which had been formed in a cave not far from them, and whose power drew the desires of demons and evil humans both. They sought a miko to subdue the spirits of evil that still wound about the soul of the miko trapped in the gem, and purify the jewel from this world.

"Kikyou took the jewel, to keep it safe until a way could be found to purify it, and began her life as a miko, as guardian of the shikon no tama. All was well, until Inuyasha. How, and why, I do not know, but they became companions, and close, and felt love for one another that was forbidden by nature and custom. Desiring a life as a normal woman, without powers or protecting, Kikyou promised Inuyasha that their desires could be fulfilled by using the jewel to wish for him to be fully human. He would be normal, accepted, and she would be able to give up the colors of a miko.

"No one but Kaede, her sister who was then a child, knew that Kikyou kept a horribly mangled man in a cave near the village, a thief who had been burned over his whole body, yet clung to life. Clinging to life, he came to desire Kikyou, and his desire for Kikyou gave him the will to beg for demons, and become Naraku.

"Naraku's desires have remained the same all this time – he desires Kikyou, and he desires the tainted power of the shikon no tama, thinking its beauty all the more shining when its light is darkness."

Miroku stopped for breath, watching the continuing hunger in Kouga's eyes, the reach of his breath and the assimilation of this new knowledge into his own desirous thoughts.

"Shall I continue?"

Kouga's growl was more than enough affirmation.

"Fifty years passed, in which there was peace, until Kagome came with the sacred jewel bursting out of her body, and Kikyou's face. She woke the demon centipede, and broke Inuyasha's seal. She shattered the shikon no tama, and swore an oath to return it to its rightful form. I was not yet a companion to them; I did not see this, but I have been told often enough.

"There was nothing but chance in the coming of Urasue. She took bone-ash and burial soil from Kikyou's grave, and used special herbs and black magic knowledge to create a body which would do her bidding, retrieving shards of the shikon jewel easily with Kikyou's famed spiritual power. Urasue reckoned with Kikyou's living incarnation – Kagome – and without the strength of will and memory that Kikyou's soul possessed.

"Seeking only the power of the miko, Urasue was blind to everything else. She was destroyed, purified by Kikyou herself, but Kikyou retained only a fragment of her soul - the soul she and Kagome shared. That fragment remembered the desire for vengeance which ruled Kikyou's last moments in life, her desire to kill Inuyasha who she believed betrayed her.

"More than this dark remembrance is with her now; she knows Naraku, and his guilt. In her new form, Kikyou requires the souls of dead maidens to keep this second life, and it is by following her soul collectors that one can always be sure of her presence. More of Kagome is in her now - I do not know if she still has need of them, or if that need is something that can never be changed."

Kouga held up a hand in confusion, halting the flood of information, and Miroku peered across at him quizzically.

"What is it?"

"What do you mean, more of Kagome _now_? They are the same soul – "

"No!"

Miroku's sharpness was sudden and unexpected.

"They shared a soul, once. The day she was born, Kagome may have shared Kikyou, but I do not think that even then the resemblance was pure. Too much time had passed- who knows how many lives that shared soul might have lived, and been neither Kikyou, nor Kagome, but _someones_ in between? No, Kouga, they are not the same."

It had always seemed so obvious to Miroku – Kikyou was darkness, and Kagome was light. By design or necessity, this was so; someday, Kikyou would go back to the earth, and there would be no Kikyou – only Kagome.

"I said that Kikyou was more of Kagome _now_, because she is. That fragment which was stolen at the beginning when Urasue created her has been given back, and increased. Naraku wounded her, and Kagome healed her – Kagome gave her more soul."

With a sudden increase in intensity, Miroku's eyes burned into Kouga.

"You must tell no one this, nor mention it to Kagome. She has told no one, and does not know that I was witness."

Kouga only nodded, stuck in a new silence, contemplating Miroku's reprimand and the nature of the soul. Abruptly, he stood and stared up into the sky. While he had sat and listened to the Houshi, night had fallen.

Sleepy stars yawned and then twinkled brightly above them in the darkening sky, a slippery purple, deep and bruised.

"We should camp here tonight, Miroku. You are strong, but you are still only human."

Miroku smiled widely, his grin gleaming through the dark.

"Then I will send you, oh strong demon, to gather firewood."

With a huff, Kouga stalked off through the trees, zipping from one patch of deadwood to another, and Miroku walked casually back along the path they had last covered, ears wide open, eyes half shut. After a minute passed, and then two, he stopped, and looked away to one side.

"You can come out now, Kagura. He should be far enough away by now."

Like an angry toss of the hair, branches, leaves and grass all shook around him, and then grew unearthly calm. From the side he did not watch, Kagura came up to him, and her gaze was creeping and uncertain. Like some small creature coming out of its burrow, she slunk towards him, and then stood two feet away, staring.

Miroku lifted his eyes to look at her, and almost let his surprise show. He had never seen her this way, except in the moment after she escaped from a battle. Somehow, it was worse than when her wounds were open and bleeding. Blood still stained her torn kimono in many places, though they looked faded and washed. The rents and tears she had done nothing about, and the paleness of her skin shone through in many places.

It was, however, her face that caught at him. There was something gaunt and helpless about her, something vulnerable in her features.

"Do not stare at me!"

Her voice was still fierce, but it was a fierceness that was losing its edge. Her hands grasped vainly at the edges of tears in her kimono, trying to hide her skin from view. It was then that he noticed the peeking sheen of her beauty, the falling edges of cloth opening across her breasts and thighs, one sleeve hanging.

"Kagura."

His voice was soft, and sympathetic. He was close to pity, but he knew she would never forgive him for that. From a deep pocket, he retrieved his own needle, and a long spool of purple silk.

"You are needing these, I think. Perhaps I should come back when you are…more covered."

"Houshi, wait."

Miroku turned back to her, forcing his eyes to meet her eyes, and stay there.

"I cannot use these, Houshi. Do you think this is the kind of thing Naraku teaches?"

She nodded in the direction of his needle and thread, and he saw that she had regained some of her usual acidity.

He laughed, and pulled out a length of thread into his own hands, measuring with his eyes against the length of the tears.

"A woman who can't sew? You are something else, Kagura."

Venom struck at him off her tongue, unexpected and potent.

"I am not a woman, Houshi. I am a monster, made from Naraku, and you would be wise not to forget it!"

Miroku caught her chin in one hand, and turned her face from side to side, watching her. Her eyes followed his face as he looked at her, and the warmth in his smile _touched_ her, though how she did not know.

"I guess you are right, Kagura. And wrong."

He dropped her chin, and threaded the needle, and bent over her torn sleeve.

* * *

A/N: Nothing to say, except Please Review! More soon!


	7. Chapter 7

VII.

Wilted

* * *

Sango awoke in shuttered darkness to the low sound of her own groan of pain. Her head felt as though a thousand iron-shod horses had trampled through her dreams, and the sound of the blankets rustling around her was piercing through the pain.

She did not remember coming here, but she recognized the place, and she could hear the slow murmur of voices outside despite the edge of darkness showing between the curtains. Slowly, painfully, quietly, Sango dragged herself up off the futon and wrapped one of the blankets around herself. Her arm and shoulder felt as though they were on fire; her leg moved only half a step, and then she felt taut bandages restraining her motions.

Sango didn't think she wanted to see the wounds. She limped to the edge of the doorway, quieter than quiet around Kaede's sleeping body, close to the embers of the fire. Shippou was beside the old priestess, an exhausted expression on his small face, but Miroku was not there, or Kagome, or Inuyasha. It was not unusual for the hanyou to be up this late, and one never knew if Kagome had returned to her own time, but Miroku?

Standing by the door, she could hear their voices, but the words in them, the tone of them, shocked her.

"What are we going to do now, then?"

_That is Inuyasha._

"We wait for Sango to heal, and Miroku to come back, and then we go out and find Naraku. What else?"

_And that is Kagome. But…Miroku come back? Where did he go, why would he go without them, without…me?_

"This is a dark night, Kagome, and Shippou is sleeping with Kaede."

Sango flushed, hearing a new familiarity in his voice, a teasing persuasion. She could not hear Kagome's response, it was spoken too low, but Inuyasha answered her with a growl-chested chuckle that told Sango more than enough.

She moved as quickly as she could, moving her hand to the door, but it was not nearly fast enough.

_I should have stayed in bed…_

She was interrupting a brutal, passionate kiss, or maybe more than a kiss – through the swirls of hair and folds of robes, it was impossible to see, and she did not want to. They parted quickly, but despite the severity of her blush and the stuttering of her tongue, Kagome's cheeks were still not as red as her lips.

"Sango! You shouldn't be up!"

With a heavy, limping step that brought her the rest of the way through the door, Sango waved Kagome's words away.

"Never mind that, Kagome. Where is Miroku, and how long have I been out? Some things have…really changed."

Her eyes pointedly avoided touching on their disheveled appearance, but Kagome's blush couldn't get any worse. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it was Inuyasha who came to the rescue.

"You've been in fever dreams for four days, Sango, and unconscious for three before that. It has been seven days since the lightening struck you – if the mid night has passed, than closer to eight."

The thought of how much time had passed stopped all of Sango's other questions, as it was meant to do. She was suddenly swept with a wave of dizziness that turned all the walls into ceilings and floors. Kagome was up off Inuyasha's lap in a heartbeat, steadying her.

"Do you remember the lightning, Sango? The dragon, and the storm?"

Kagome's questions were soft and cool in Sango's ears, restoring order, but the memories Sango was being asked for did not arrange themselves coherently, or fall within easy reach.

"I remember a bright, red pain – and feeling like I was falling, like the feeling that comes in a dream."

"That pain was the dragon-lightning. You did fall, when you and Kilala were struck, but Miroku caught you, and since then you have not been conscious."

Kagome's fingers passed up Sango's arm, searching the bandages out. The other pressed against her forehead.

"You are still feverish, and all this walking around has burst the blisters on your shoulder. Sit quietly now, so I can change the bandage. They were close to breaking anyway – I'll have to check your leg, and see if those need tending, too."

Kagome gave orders in a fierce whisper, trying not to wake Kaede but to let Sango know she meant business at the same time. She led Sango back to her futon, and eased her down to the floor.

It was only when she sat back down that Sango became aware of the strain she had been putting on herself, just to stand and walk across the room. He muscles went from tight as steel bands to completely limp in a flat second.

"Here, Sango. This should help."

She turned, and accepted a cup that Inuyasha was holding out to her. She pressed it between her fingers, savoring the cool feeling. She took one small, careful sip, and then a larger one with a surprised look creeping over the discomfort on her features.

"It's…good. Thank you, Inuyasha."

He shrugged her off, and moved to his customary place by the wall. Once he was seated, he leaned tetsusaiga against his shoulder and gestured towards Kagome, busy amid Kaede's herbs, trailing fresh linen from one hand.

"She made it, this morning. Whenever we come back here, Kaede gives her a little more training, and she gets a little stronger."

Kagome turned her head in his direction, and recaptured her fierce whisper.

"I heard that, Inuyasha!"

When she turned away, Sango could see that she was smiling and shaking her head; unlike the Inuyasha she remembered, he did not seem perturbed by the possibility of 'osuwari!' that had snuck into Kagome's tone.

"So, Inuyasha, are you going to tell me what has been going on?"

Her eyes closed, and she took another sip of cold tea. Kagome approached with an armful of herbs, and settled herself. With quick efficiency she pulled Sango's yukata off her shoulders, and began to unwrap the long strips of linen that bound her arm and shoulder. Without a word, Inuyasha turned away, and while Kagome eased the fluid-soaked bandages away from the raw burns, he tried to answer Sango's question.

"We were back here before nightfall, after we killed that dragon. That... was the night that I made Kagome my mate."

He paused, and the smile that flitted across his face was dark, his teeth like a slice of moonlight, his fangs glittering over his lips. Sango's face was eerily calm, and the sudden light of her eyes struck out at him. Kagome sat back on her heels, looking between them, but Sango darted a glance in her direction, and pressed her fingers for silence.

"If you hurt Kagome – this is my little sister, one close to my heart, you understand? What have you done about Kikyou?"

Kagome's features did not even tighten for a moment; her fingers remained loose under Sango's hand.

"Kikyou has been told. _You_ must understand, Sango, sister or no – Kagome is mine. She broke my seal, saved my soul, healed my heart and wounded my destiny. I belong to Kagome. The day I betray her, I will give you Tetsusaiga to cut out my heart."

His eyes were hard, his face utterly serious. He stood and passed through the door without another word. Sango smiled, and looked up from her cup to meet Kagome's eyes. The herbs Kagome had been holding were scattered all over the floor.

"Did you hear all that, Kagome?"

Kagome's answer was almost a whisper.

"Before…he told me he loved me. Not…any of that."

Tears had flooded her eyes, and she knew that any moment, Inuyasha would rush back in from the scent of them, and wake Kaede, and Shippou, and cause a riot. The moment she wanted would not happen if they were not alone. Sango was almost laughing, and gave permission with her eyes; Kagome stood, and half-ran for the door.

A few moments passed in silence, and then the rustling of bedding and soft footsteps approached Sango. Kaede knelt heavily, and turned to the task of picking up spilled herbs and rewrapping Sango's bandages.

"So, child, tell me what it is you wish to know, and I will do my best to tell you. Kagome and Inuyasha are adjusting to a new life, and Inuyasha does not share well."

Sango held up her arm, so Kaede could examine the broken blisters, and turned her own head sideways so she could see. Instantly, she wished she hadn't. The pain was less than it looked like it should be – a cool breeze moved over the slushy surface of the wounds, and her nerves tingled with tangible relief - but the raw surface of flesh beneath dead white skin disturbed her eyes.

"Miroku, Kaede. Where is Miroku? Why did he leave?"

Kaede shook her head, and laved a soothing ointment onto Sango's wounds.

"The first question you ask me, I have no answers for. I am sorry, Sango."

She sighed, and patted Sango's hand while she reached for the new linen.

"In the evening seven days ago, Kagome, Inuyasha, Shippou and Miroku returned, bearing you. By the time the third morning had come, Miroku was gone – when exactly he left, and where he was bound for, I could not tell you. He has been silent, and thoughtful, and dark in those thoughts of late. Perhaps you would know why, better than I."

Sango clenched her fists, quickly, tightly, and the shock of pain down her arm loosened one of them at once. The other ground down into the floor beside her futon.

"Of course I know. He's afraid…that we won't find Naraku in time, that we won't kill him. That he will die in the void of his hand like he has slain so many demons, like his father…like his grandfather. He's afraid to die."

Kaede sat back on her knees, and began work on unwrapping the bandages around Sango's leg.

"I do not think Miroku's fears are so base, Sango. He only fears his own death for the pain it could cause his companions. Naraku awakens disgust in Miroku, not fear, but his time is running short. Do you remember why Miroku began his journey alone?"

Sango squeezed her eyes shut against the pain as Kaede pulled the long strips of linen away from her leg.

"He said…he said once that he did not wish to endanger a traveling companion, that his death could come at any moment, without warning, and all those near him would be sure to be devoured, just as he would be. I told him that was stupid…because without companions, he was sure to die, and with them, he might live. He said he had never thought much about living, and so I thought that he was afraid to die. Can it be…that he is afraid to live, instead?"

Kaede shook her head, and smoothed a soothing balm over both the unhealed blisters and those that had burst.

"I think that is more wise than being afraid of death, don't you? But more than that, I do not agree that it is fear which rules him. There is something darker, yet less heavy than death, which lingers in his thoughts. Perhaps it is hope."

Sango did not understand, but she was tired, and missed Miroku, and envied Kagome the new happiness of being 'mate' to the one she loved.

* * *

The morning broke open and ran down the sky like a fresh yolk, yellow and thick, but maneuvering clouds promised that the afternoon would be wet despite the glorious daybreak. Miroku blinked up at the brightening sky from his place beside the evening's fire, and saw that Kouga was already gone, run off between the trees to hunt, or fish, or because the anger of Kagura's nearness was threatening to overflow.

She did not impress herself on them, or even stay near enough that her scent could taunt Kouga's nose, but Miroku's spiritual senses were always aware of her, like a leaf on the breeze, bobbing in and out of view as the winds changed. He knew that Kouga was also aware of her, somehow; when he had returned from stitching her kimono, the wolf snapped firewood in silence and stared into the fire until Miroku slept, and maybe after.

Now that it was morning, several choices paced around Miroku's thoughts, each offering its own path. He could not travel with Kouga, and allow Kagura to continue following them – it would only lead to violence, no matter what promises Kouga made. He could not turn back, and return to the familiar companionship that offered itself so temptingly – that was death.

What was Naraku doing now? The changes that moved around them were quickening in pace; the darting game that they had played for years now was altering its form and rules. Kagome and Inuyasha – Kikyou and Kouga. If Naraku knew, there would be swift retribution, and Kagome would be in worse danger then ever. Who knew what kind of wicked trap he would try to set?

Kagura could still be working his will, vulnerable to his desires because of her own lack of center. If he had been lured away, just to make it easier…but what was the point of that speculation? He had already made his choice; he was going forward, taking this chance, lured by hope.

He had been gone long enough to make everyone worry, long enough that even if they somehow learned of his whereabouts, his intentions, they could never catch him. Inuyasha would no longer leave Kagome behind to move forward more swiftly. Inu-hanyou though he was, now he would stop every night, and she would always be with him. But - still. Someone had to tell them he was safe, alive…that he would return if he was able. Someone had to tell Kagome that Kikyou had become Kouga's 'spirit woman', that Kikyou was changing in ways they did not know and could not expect.

"Miroku, what are you staring at?"

"Uh…huh?"

It was, of course, perfectly simple. And because he had not even admitted the change to himself, Kouga would be perfectly willing to go to Kagome…provided that he did not arrive at night, and could be trusted not to taunt Inuyasha about Kikyou.

"Kouga…you should go to Kagome. You must tell her what has been going on, you must tell her about Kikyou and where I am, so that she does not worry. Talk to her alone, away from Inuyasha, far enough away that you are out of earshot, if you can manage it. Naraku targets the loved ones of those he hates – Kagome is in greater danger now, and so is Kikyou. They share a face, and his twisted desire does not make much difference between them. They are both…Inuyasha's women."

Kouga's snarl twisted past his control, and he clenched his fist against the implication of Miroku's words.

"Naraku…and Inuyasha. If it weren't for the one, the other would probably be my blood enemy, but there's no time for that. Why this sudden concern, Houshi?"

Miroku did not smile.

"You know as well as I do that Kagura is near us. I need her help, but that cannot be while I travel by your side – not because of her, but because of _you_. There are messages that need to be brought, but I am not fast enough to return there and bring them, and then escape again. Inuyasha would follow me far enough to track me, and then go back for the others."

His voice turned urgent, his eyes hard.

"You cannot allow them to follow me, Kouga. Inuyasha is hardheaded, but Sango's burns were vicious and Kagome will not want to leave her behind. Appeal to her – she is the one who commands Inuyasha, and not with words."

A vague spark of interest had already lit in the wolf's eyes, and he toyed with a log at the edge of the flame, poking it so sparks rose up and fluttered across the blue.

"Sango is the huntress, yes? The other woman who travels with you? How was she burned? Was Kagome hurt?"

Miroku stood and began to tie on his outer robe. Usually he was grateful for the extra layer, but the nights had become sticky and thick.

"Sango is the other woman, yes. We fought a lightning dragon, an enormous youkai that brought a typhoon behind it, and before we defeated it Sango was struck down by the demon lightning. She was burned down her left side…they are terrible wounds. I stayed long enough to make sure…I stayed, for a while, before I left, because she was injured."

Kouga's eyes narrowed as Miroku spoke, and then he stood, brushing the dirt from his furs.

"I will go to Kagome, Miroku, and I will tell this woman, Sango…I will tell her that you wish her well. Be careful, Houshi. Your new companion will not be as loyal or as trustworthy as I."

With a whirlwind of speed, Kouga shot off, back down the path they had already come, and Miroku poured dirt over the fire to quench it without smoke and packed his few possessions back into his bag. From overhead, a single white feather drifted down, and landed in front of his feet.

_She is swift. Well…it's not as though there's time to waste._

He bent and lifted it up, holding it over his head so that the sun turned the soft white down the pale yellow hue of a lotus blossom. Almost at once, the wind lifted and rushed down through the leaves and branches. The dirt he had spilled over the little fire blew away in the rush, and the ashes were sucked up to dance in the air.

She landed in front of him this time, and rose from her feather with the grace to which he was accustomed. The last of her wounds had healed, and her skin was palely smooth again, but the stains had not faded from the kimono he had stitched, and the fluent lines of purple stitches looked like an unfinished embroidery, leaves without a stalk.

"You sent the wolf away. How did you manage that, Houshi?"

He grinned, and she was surprised. One did not give smiles to an enemy, unless they were about to die. This was not that kind of smile.

"I sent him to Kagome. He is a little obsessed, actually, but really it is Kikyou he wants now."

She nodded.

"He does not want in vain; he has had the priestess, the miko who is undead. She seemed to enjoy him nearly as much as Inuyasha enjoyed _his_ miko. Kanna's mirror makes no exclusions for privacy, and Naraku is quite the voyeur."

She felt pleasure defaming the name of the one who tormented her, but the Houshi's face showed no similar emotions. His original surprise at her nod of agreement had changed to wide concern.

"Naraku knows that Kouga has taken Kikyou? Then it is good that Kouga goes with warning. Inuyasha may not want to hear it, but Kagome will tell him somehow…"

Kagura's eyebrows questioned him even before her voice.

"Why do you worry so much for your friends? Whether she is Inuyasha's mate or not, this miko girl is in equal danger from Naraku, just as you all are. Being his enemy means you are not safe, not as long as he lives, and I do not know if there is anyone who could destroy him. Even Inuyasha's brother…"

She fell silent.  
"You have met Sesshomaru?"

Her thoughts flitted back, touching on that embarrassing memory, the coldness in that face, so surreal in its beauty that she shied away from it. He had not wanted the power of the shikon no tama, nor any part in the dramatic sweep of history that Naraku sought to create.

"Yes…I have met him. He is strong, but I think…"

She hesitated.

"He is too proud, and yet grieving. I do not know why. I do not know if I could ever touch him."

Miroku was suddenly swept up in a wave of unreality, peering into himself and asking what, exactly, he thought he was doing. This conversation with Kagura was impossible, happening with words and not blades. But wasn't there something he had wanted to know, a reason to need her?

"Kagura, I have traveled south because that was the direction you gave me. Where is this shrine, and what is the fastest way?"

She turned, and retreated to her feather.

"Travel straight south, Houshi. The mountain sticks out alone at the end of a long range; it is almost an island unto itself. When you see it, you will know you are nearing a holy place. Now, you are nearing the territory of a tribe of neko-youkai. Be careful, Houshi."

She began to float quickly up into the air, and Miroku called after her.

"You are sure this is the swiftest way?"

Her voice drifted down to him with a laugh on its edge.

"You will not come up with me, so you must travel along the ground. There is no faster path…"

_Come up with you?_

It sounded like an invitation, though of what sort he was not sure. Trusting her directions was one thing, but to fly along in the clouds? She could kill him in a moment, and there would be nothing he could do about it. He tramped down the long path she had flown, feeling the _presence_ of her accompany him, far out of reach.

The forest was becoming more and more jungle, and the creeping vines reached out of the ground and scratched at his feet and ankles. For a while he bent and passed under the drooping branches of wide, short trees, and then the path cleared again and rolled down to the south between reaching branches and bright, madly colored flowers.

The press of vegetation slowed the breeze that had cooled him in the more open forest, and the heat was oppressive, pushing down on him like a lead weight out of the sky. The rain that had been promised by the morning's far-off clouds finally arrived, but the drops did not penetrate far underneath the thick canopy, and the sun did not give up easily, beating down through rain and trees to stifle any hope of cooler air.

By nightfall, he no longer cared about trust, and he dreamed of flying through cool air currents and raw, damp clouds. There was a woman in front of him, who turned and smiled with a glint of teeth, but in the darkness of the dream there was no face, and the shining eyes could not be named.

* * *

A/N: Please Review; onward!


	8. Chapter 8

VIII

Intoxication

* * *

Kikyou moved through the trees with silent footsteps, carefully walking where no men tread, avoiding the scent of humanity, the swirl and rush of life. All her ideas and ideals had been disturbed, disrupted, and the choices of her life raised up before her like ghosts on the path she walked. Everything should have been changed when the wolf touched her – part of her had welcomed the sacrifice with open arms, desiring no more illusions of sanctity and no more power. The glow of miko that she could still touch should have been snuffed out with the purity of her flesh.

Kagome had not lost that power either, despite the taint of her lust with Inuyasha, but it was untenable that this should be so. Had so many women wasted their lives, chaste, unloved, for no reason at all? Her own sister, even? Of course it would be Kagome, lingering in a world not her own, who would discover this and make it so. Who else would try; who else could risk it?

_*Did my love for Inuyasha weaken me only because I believed it would, rather than because such weakness was inevitable? Or perhaps I did not love him…perhaps I only wanted to escape with him, the first one who offered me a chance – and he did love me. I saw that old love in his eyes the moment I saw him, returned to this false life.*_

It hurt so much, now! There was no escaping this new knowledge, now that she had admitted it to herself. She had been shallow and selfish, wanting Inuyasha to change so that she could have a woman's life, and not a miko's. She had not been worthy of her charge.

_*He has happiness now, and in some small way, I can be glad of that. Some part of Kagome is still me, some part of that soul still remembers. I have no right to be bitter, especially since…*_

Between trees, she stopped, and pressed her palms against her cheeks. She had felt…warmth. A surge of warmth to accompany the rush of feeling at the thoughts that had filled her. She was never warm, or cold, though she knew she felt that way to others. The memory of being alive was the memory of being warm.

_*The wolf…Kouga. Kouga, what do you think of me? Do you know who I am, will you learn what I am? If you go to Inuyasha he will not be angry – the girl that fills you fills him also. I wonder if the mystery still binds you, if you would still want me…Kouga.*_

A glow like soft blue lightning drifted down towards her out of the sky, and the swift serpent shape that dove down towards her and lingered with its nose near her finger was silent, and yet hummed.

"Go out from me and find this wolf, Kouga, and bring the knowledge of his whereabouts to me. Perhaps I will go and find him, and not sit and wonder what he is thinking."

There was a sound like whale song, softer and brighter in the air, and then the single serpent was joined by a dozen others, and then more. They sped away from her out into the air in many directions, and Kikyou continued moving through the trees. Day by day, she had been moving away from her sister's village, away from Inuyasha and his new mate, the happiness they shared and the constriction of her throat when she thought of them.

Now, she turned back, meandering back over a stream that crossed her path, stooping to bathe her face and hands in the still, clear water. The face that reflected back at her from the pebble-strewn shallows was smooth and unlined, but there was a softness in her features that she did not remember. The first time she had looked in the mirror-water of a still pond her eyes had been flat and dull – now they sparkled.

The change could have been in her blood, if she had blood, but she did not. Her heart did not beat, and her soul was not her own, but inside her, whatever _was_, was changing.

_*It may take them some time to find him. Where should I go…while I am waiting, what is there to see or do that could distract me from these thoughts?*_

She let the water drip off her fingers, and watched the wide spread of ripples move across the water and join into shimmering, diamond-faceted crescents on the silver surface.

Half a moment before she heard the buzzing noise that was a tensing alert, her skin prickled and she whirled with a rush, lifting her bow and holding an arrow ready between two fingers.

_*Saimyoshou!*_

With a pounding feeling that was close to a heartbeat, she sighted and released her arrow. The shaft slid through the demon insect and purified it into dust.

_*Naraku…what do you want from me now? It has been so long since last you tried, I suppose. Will you try to use even this wolf against me?*_

She stepped forward and reclaimed her arrow. The saimyoshou were not opponents; they were aggravation, Naraku's taunt to let her know he could find her, that she was not invulnerable, that he was always watching. She was still full of the belief that Naraku himself could not touch her, but she knew he had other minions; he still tried to hurt her.

_*Naraku knows I am his weakness. Maybe Inuyasha should know this, too. Does Naraku know he has mated the girl?*_

With narrow eyes and breaking thoughts, she paced alongside the stream, watching, waiting. Before too long, a single glowing serpent floated down to her side, weaving through the air, and then was joined by another. They danced together in the air alongside her, and she turned to stare at the path she had already walked.

"Go back? I…did not want to go back."

But she turned, and sighed, and glided toward the village. Like a cool and rising tide, she felt filled, as though with light. She resonated with the trees, with the movement of dirt and old twigs, fallen bits of bark and skittering insects. For another moment she paused, as the wind raised a chill on the back of her neck.

_*I thought…I heard someone say my name.*_

_

* * *

  
_

"Kikyou…Kikyou. Kikyou."

_*Kikyou…*_

Kouga was testing her name on his tongue like the finest sake, and he found it to be both sweet and bitter. He still could not bring himself to forget what the Houshi had said, though he had been trying all day.

_*They are both…Inuyasha's women.*_

Why Inuyasha? What was it about Kikyou that could make her Inuyasha's women, after so long, after she was so changed, after Inuyasha had taken Kagome, taken her and made her his mate?

_*I could never claim _her_, now. But why are my thoughts so stuck on this woman, more than…more than Kagome! How can that be?*_

His thoughts still rebelled, but it was true. There was no point in hoping; Kagome was no longer free.

_*And unless Inuyasha is more stupid than even I think he is, he would never let her go.*_

One fist tightened and he scowled as he ran. That echo was still penetrating his skull, and it was beginning to create a throb behind his eyes.

_*They were both…Inuyasha's women. But Kikyou, Kikyou is not Inuyasha's woman. Kikyou…Kikyou is mine!*_

Thinking it was not the only thing that made it so. He knew he was the only one who had ever claimed her; her body was not tainted by the scent of another male, and her kiss was too fresh and light to belong to a knowing woman. There was something deeper in his desire for her; perhaps it was nothing more than the closeness brought by the touch of her skin, the flesh that was not flesh, the soft, gripping coolness that was so different from any other female he had known – and then, just for a moment, the warmth, the supreme warmth.

Quiet came over his thoughts, and filtered down into his blood. He could not allow himself to be controlled by mere lust. If that was all it was, he would be better to deliver his message quickly, and then leave. Why was he even hoping that she would be here? This had been her place in life, but it was quite clear that in death she left well enough alone.

The scents were beginning to make themselves clear now, and with speedy efficiency he picked them out, just beyond the range of Inuyasha's nose.

_*Humans…children…cooking smells. Peony flowers, kitsune, Inuyasha…Kagome. And death. Somehow, this whole village smells of death.*_

Death was a human worry, and it was not attached to Kagome's scent, so he did not care. His thoughts played various games inside themselves, seeking a way to gain Kagome's attention without Inuyasha's. It would be difficult. An Inu did not leave his mate alone, nor allow her to wander out of the range of scent, except in direst need. As it was, the simplest plan seemed most likely to work.

Kouga wound himself up to top speed, and darted the last few miles up the road to the village. By now, the villagers were used to the incursions of random youkai, but it still did not mean they wouldn't try to kill him, and that was boring. As a rush of wind, he slid right by them, and continued on until he could see Inuyasha, standing guard over a loop of steam.

He thought to go right past him, when the hanyou didn't move or twitch to acknowledge his scent, but as he tried a single quick fist slammed through the wind that surrounded him and caught him by the collar of his vest.

"Damn wolf! Did you think you would get by me that way, that I would let you see her bathe?"

Kouga's brain finally made the connection between the rising steam, Inuyasha's stance, and the strong scent of Kagome that was wandering up to him from the water that must lay at the bottom of the rise. It was definitely her voice that bounced up at them, worry lilting in it.

"Is everything alright, Inuyasha?"

"Fine, Kagome, just fine."

With a growl like low thunder, Inuyasha stood and dragged Kouga away from the spring where Kagome bathed.

"What do you want, wolf? She is my mate now. You cannot have her."

Roughly, Kouga shook off Inuyasha's hands, and took a step back.

"You think I don't know that? The scent of you two has been through the whole wood the past few days. I didn't come here for her. I bring a message from Miroku."

The growling stiffness that had stayed latent in Inuyasha's muscles relaxed, but his scowl grew deeper.

"Where did you see Miroku?"

Kouga shrugged.

"South. I traveled with him for a few days, but he seemed concerned that your group would worry for him. Once he was far enough away that you could not easily catch up, he asked me to bring Kagome a message."

Inuyasha's clenched fists tensed even more, giving away his anxiety, but it couldn't be helped.

"Wait here."  
With a running leap, he went back to the spring and ran down behind Kagome.

"Kagome."

Surprise drew a squeal from her throat, but it died when she felt his hands on her shoulders, lifting her up out of the water. For a moment she glistened like a nymph in his arms, and Inuyasha's most immediate desire suddenly had nothing to do with messages, or the wolf.

Like a darting snake, he struck inwards, stealing a kiss.

"Kouga is here. He says he brings a message from Miroku."

For the first time in days, there was an edge of brightness in her eyes that had nothing to do with him. Relief was a pronged wave in her scent, and as it touched him he too felt relieved.

"I'll get dressed, Inuyasha. Why don't you bring him back to Kaede's, and I'll meet you there?"

Reluctant, he put her down but did not let her go.

"I will wait with you. We will all go together."

While she bent and folded in interesting ways, sliding into her strange clothes, Inuyasha watched, cursing Kouga. The pleats of her skirt swirled and fell three inches above her knees; the single layer of her blouse was almost sheer when the sun shone from behind her. For a moment, he scowled, and then ran across the smooth grass and scooped her up into his arms.

He liked to carry her this way now, instead of on his back. He could watch her face, and feel her warmth, and not be so tempted by the smooth white flesh under his claws. She was not distracted, however, and her questions were worried and to the point.

"How does Kouga bring us a message from Miroku? They do not…know each other. None of us really _know_ Kouga, and when he comes, it's always at such odd times. He never has any pattern; he doesn't make any sense!"

She sighed, and the puff of air ruffled her hair.

"If he tries to say I am his woman, Inuyasha, please don't kill him. He's just…"

Another sigh wafted its way through her bangs.

"Just don't kill him, okay?"

She could not see his smile, but the shadows on his face moved in strange and shiver-inducing ways.

"I have already told him, Kagome. You are mine. You do not need to worry about it."

When they crested the hill, and Kouga could see them, Inuyasha put Kagome down and they walked together to stand in front of him. A sympathetic sadness had imprinted itself over Kagome's features, but the worry for her friend was obvious; she seemed tired, thinner, as though she had lost sleep and missed meals.

"Kagome…"

Kouga paused, and turned to gauge Inuyasha's mood. The hanyou seemed so protective of Kagome, it didn't seem like there was any room for another woman left! Why would it be unwise to mention Kikyou, to say that she was his? The Houshi had left much unexplained.

"Your friend, the Houshi, sends a message through me. He is traveling south, to a mountain where a mystic is said to have taken up residence, a powerful spirit of good omen that now blesses the mountain. He was told that the pure essence of this mountain could relieve even the most evil of curses, and that Naraku's power is as nothing against it."

Instantly, Kagome understood.

"He is going to try and heal the Kazaana. Why didn't he tell us?"

Kouga shook his head. His own warnings had not been listened to, and he did not desire to heighten Kagome's worry.

"Miroku fears the source of his information may be corrupt. He did not want to endanger your lives needlessly, on a quest that would solely benefit him, if it is a trap."

Inuyasha snarled.

"A trap? Than it has something to do with Naraku!"

Kouga's voice became strident.

"The Houshi is following the direction of Kagura. _She _is leading him to the sacred mountain."

Dead silence fell; even Kagome could hear heartbeats.

* * *

The jungle seemed to thin after a few days, or at least settle into a predictable mess. Trees, vines, and ferns shot up at unpredictable angles and leapt out across overgrown openings that had seemed like paths a moment before. Strange creatures peered out with glossy, goggling eyes pinned on to the sides of their faces like buttons, or moved by Miroku's feet swiftly, furred and pawed with chuffing, scuffing whiskers and short flat tails. Brightly colored flowers bloomed on the sides of rotting trunks, which seemed to melt into the shallow grasses and sapling-shoots that had sprouted up beside them.

Miroku was moving carefully, his every sense on the alert. For two days he had traveled warily south, waiting to encounter any sign or sensation of neko-youkai, and for two nights he had slept uneasily, sure that the next time he woke it would be to hissing laughter and claws on his throat. Instead, there was silence all around him, and besides the small creatures that flitted through the trees and undergrowth, he saw nothing and no one.

He was beginning to think that Kagura had been playing with him, or that he had gone in the wrong direction, when the bushes alongside the faint suggestion of a trail began to rattle conspicuously. Miroku gripped his staff, reaching forward with eyes and ears. He allowed the heightening awareness of houriki to creep into him, and with a low, sweeping stroke he used the butt end of his staff to rustle the bushes.

There was a sound like a boiling kettle, somewhere between the tones of a whistle and the sibilance of a hiss. Within the moment that Miroku was jumping away, a ball of fur rolled out of the brush and leapt to its feet in front of him.

He knew suddenly and certainly that Kagura had not lied. His feet had passed him into the neko territory and he had not even known it.

_*It would not be wise to anger them without cause, and the cat does not attack. I will not be the first to do so.*_

Slowly, backing away a single step, Miroku allowed his staff to relax from his hands until the end rested on the ground. He held it loosely in one hand. Orange and shining eyes still watched him over bared teeth. Slowly, terribly, the cat began to pad in half circles, back and forth, preventing him from going further. Miroku help up his hands, praying swiftly.

"If you can understand me, I am not here to harm you or your tribe! Please, allow me to pass by."

While he had stayed in place, the cat had remained silent, though pacing; as soon as he stepped forward, a low rumble of growls, lapping on each other's ends, began to fill the space between them.

One indrawn breath punctuated the noise. Miroku's eyes leapt from bush to tree, tree to shadow. He was met with eyes everywhere, green eyes, orange eyes, yellow eyes, shining and dangerous and every one of them cat. With a sigh and a jingle of rings, he folded his arms and sat slowly. His thoughts held themselves paused while he collected himself to wait.

_*This was not how I wanted to spend any more time. Haven't I waited long enough?*_

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and began to meditate. Time passed.

A swift shower made itself known, falling onto the high canopy of dark jungle trees and sliding down the long gnarled barks, each drop losing itself in thick trunks. Perhaps one drop out of a thousand made it down to the floor of the deep forest, to feed and nurture the scuttling bunches of life that ran for them. Flowers bloomed for a few bright moments, gulping up the dew fall, and then spinning into an organza-twist of silence.

Miroku felt the sparse drops on his face, and let out a long, slow breath of air. He blinked. The cats that had blocked his path were gone, and everything glistened with a smooth sheen of new wetness. Slowly, stretching his muscles to ease the stiffness from so long in one position, he stood. He allowed his eyes to drift around, seeking the shadows that had held eyes.

There was nothing; the air around him was empty of scent and substance. Miroku felt alone, but there was still a tingle of presence that drifted just beyond his ability to name or touch it.

_*Is it Kagura? Or do the leaders of the neko-youkai wait in ambush? I need more information…I cannot dash off blindly through strange territory!*_

The question no longer mattered. Even while he had those few thoughts, a demonic presence grew stronger, moving toward him faster than his own breath.

_*Definitely cat, but not an ambush. Did the others bring a message, while I sat so still and silently? Perhaps they thought me dead.*_

There was suddenly a lean, tall figure in front of him, hair blowing wildly in his own wind. His arms were tattooed with curving stripes of spots to the elbow. Sandy hair was shot through with black and tied in a long tail. The eyes that focused on Miroku's face and glinted over a sharp-toothed smile were the color of lime juice, struck with sun.

"So, you are the human that is causing all the trouble. Why is it that you neither run nor attack?"

Miroku continued to hold his ground, studying his new adversary. The attitude reminded his forcefully of Kouga, but the tall cat who stood watching him had more inquisitive features and a more intellectual demeanor. His face was dispassionate.

"I have no reason to attack those who do not harm me, and if I am not harmed, why would I run?"

The smile that faced him widened.

"Well, there's no disputing that logic. What is your name and purpose, human?"

Miroku bowed, but kept his eyes tied to the demon and his fist tight on his staff.

"My name is Miroku, a humble servant of Buddha. My purpose is merely to pass through this region. I am traveling south."

Darkness gathered between the cat's eyes.

"If your purpose is truly that meager, then perhaps we will allow you this. The region is troubled of late…many of the tribes speak of gathering to fight."

He stopped himself, and Miroku saw a short flash of indecision spark through his thoughts. After it came resolution.

"What shall I call you?"

With a short bow, he gave name and pedigree.

"I am Ryuk, Tsuki's son. I am Warlord of my tribe. Will you come to my den, Houshi? I offer you a night of comfort, in return for your counsel and perhaps your aid."

As the questions piled up on Miroku's face, Ryuk held out one hand warningly.

"This is not the time or place for further conversation. Will you come, or not? The den is south and east of here; it will not lengthen your journey."

A small smile grew on Miroku's face. Hospitality was not something he had expected.

"How could I refuse such a polite invitation. Lead, and I will follow."

Wordlessly, Ryuk turned and darted off into the green thickness of dark trees. Pushing himself, Miroku could barely keep up and it was obvious that Ryuk had made a careful judgment of human limits. For the briefest of moments, a thought between steps, he remembered _he_r_,_ as the wind picked up - like the scent of a dream.

_*Are you watching me, Kagura?*_

_

* * *

_A/N: Phew! Chapter 8, done...and now back to Bloodlust. Why am I doing this to myself? (no idea) Please review!


	9. Chapter 9

IX.

Shadow Call

* * *

From a great height, Kagura drifted on the currents of world-wind, jostled by clouds and sudden gusts that spun her off course. The swift stream of air had moved her much faster than the man she watched, but it would do no good to go down to him now. The various neko tribes were all wary, all worriers, but none more than this one. Their lord, Ryuk – he was a strange one, not bloodthirsty, not ambitious - he used his head, that one.

She had been here once before, the emissary of Naraku. He had been so certain that her beauty and power would sway them, endear her to them. Instead, they smelled only evil, and sent her away with snarls and curses on frigid tongues. Rumor of the miasma had traveled far for them to recognize the story in her scent.

Kagura had not expected the Houshi to be so quickly and easily successful, but the scent of blood did not come to her on the swift moving wind, and the darting of her eyes between the clouds detected nothing untoward amid the wide spread of jungle trees. South and a little east, the jungle began to thin along the curve of the land to a slice of rocky beach, and then the wide, flat sea.

_I wonder if they will grant him passage. I wonder if he will mention the sacred mountain, and what they will say. To them it would be anything but sacred._

If he was wise, he would not say too much too soon. If the Houshi was unfortunate in his questions, and caused them to fear his purpose, they would kill him without another thought. Sitting in the cold wind, waiting, her thoughts turned humorous. He was a strange one, that Houshi. Sometimes, he made a mockery of…of being! It was impossible. He could not be the opposite of himself.

Still, all these thoughts were useless as long as he traveled in the company of a Cat. Kagura dipped lower in her flight, watching the rustle of trees and bushes. These jungles were home to wild boars, fierce cousins of the domestic beasts kept by human farmers. Many suspicious rattling sounds in the brush and the soft huffing snort of a small group of the animals passed beneath her feather. They stirred up rich scents of earth as they moved, and Kagura paused to watch them.

_This is unusual. The hunting in these regions can be sparse. Why would so many animals gather in one place? _

Behind the boars, the jungle foliage covered over their passage and wound back into an impenetrable knot. Who knew how the animals found the path through? A slow, suddenly pleased smile passed onto Kagura's face.

_If the hunting is scarce, then those who hunt must take every opportunity they have…is that not so? The one who follows the Houshi is the leader of his tribe. To make sure they are fed is his responsibility. _

Her face turned sideways for a moment, recognizing that her task would be lowly – scaring up game! But this idea was too easy not to try, and the Houshi needed more information than she had given him. A single mention of her name, a single memory, the name of the sacred mountain…those things could be enough to destroy him. One Houshi, against an entire tribe of lneko-youkai?

She did not think he would kill them all to save his own life, even if the Kazaana gave him the strength.

_He is too…sympathetic. Otherwise, would he even have listened to me?_

Kagura swooped lower, and directed the wind-wave of her scent towards the ground over which the boars moved. Suddenly, the soft snuffling noises that had turned her thoughts became a shrieking series of squeals. The scent of Naraku was the scent of death. As though fire was chasing them, the animals charged through the undergrowth, shattering fallen logs and small bushes, tossing their heads in an explosion of green.

The stream of shining dark bodies wriggled beneath her. Males tossed their tusks, and cut those who moved alongside them, and blood scent struck the air, sharp and pungent. The squealing cries ricocheted through the jungle, and Kagura moved back up through the air, just below the clouds, once again waiting.

_There is no hunter that can fail to hear this! The Cat will come, and the Houshi will be alone, for a while. Now, I must go to him._

She dropped lower, scanning the treetops with piercing sight, and then landed in the only open area she could find. She sighed, and stared through the green shadows ahead of her. Walking was not her favorite way to travel, but there was no other way through the thick growth.

Despite her preferences, she moved quickly. Kagura did not run, but her feet were pointedly swift. Her senses were watchful, and when she came near the place where the beasts had last run, she waited. The jungle was silent, unusually tense. Coiled vines lay still in the dark shadows, and mingled with the fallen leaves of trees. She could see blinking amphibious eyes, bulbous with a flat sheen, and without her own movement the wind was motionless. Only insects hummed and droned, but not near her.

With an abruptness that spoke of the skill of the hunter, a death squeal sharpened the air. It was followed by others, more piercing still.

_One…two…three - five - seven - One cat, and seven beasts? He will not be able to carry them all at once, but he must clean them all now. Now is the time to go…to find the Houshi. _

_

* * *

  
_

Miroku was waiting in silence, alone in the dense dark of the jungle twilight. Each fragment of sky he could see between the bristling leaves showed a different shade of purple or blue, deeper than the skies in the north that he remembered.

_Is it really so long since I traveled south? Or is it the influence of some ominous aura? A great evil indeed, to spawn such a cloud. _

The trees suddenly seemed darker, pressing, the leaves of bushes and vines furling against the coming dark. A cool wind passed over him, the first open breeze he had felt on the long run through the sweating green. His hair lifted off his forehead and neck; the black cotton of his inner robe rustled and filled with cool air. For a moment, he did not worry, enjoying the chill. He lifted his head from the pillow of his outer robe, and stretched his shoulders.

"It is nice to see that my presence no longer disturbs you, Miroku-Houshi."

Miroku jumped, irreparably startled. He had been grateful for the breeze, and had not wondered at its cause. Nothing had alerted him to the presence of Kagura, or her approach.

_Was I really that relaxed? How stupid!_

"Kagura…"

It was also the first time she had addressed him that way – 'Miroku-Houshi'. What did that mean; what did all the changes in her mean? He shook his head, and lay a hand on his staff as he stood.

_I must be careful with her._

As though she had read his thoughts, Kagura smiled, and bowed. Her bow was mocking, her smile a taunt, but he only nodded, seeming to relax again.

"What are you here to tell me now, Kagura? Am I nearing my goal?"

Her eyebrows lifted.  
"So quick! Did you expect this would be such an easy journey? You must pass through the territory of these neko, and come to the shore. Then you will cross, to the island where you must hunt and make sacrifice, and then again to an island where you must purify yourself."

Her eyes laughed at him, sparkling with pain.

"I will not go with you there."

He still watched her, his eyes intense. Miroku wanted every slant of her eyes, every new curve in her lips, every line on her forehead. He was sure it would be of use to him later, to know her so well.

"And after, Kagura? Where do we go after these islands?"

The strangest curve yet touched her lips, a glittering smile. The light in her eyes was dangerous and smooth.

"We will speak of after if you come to after, Miroku-Houshi. You have work ahead of you, here. These neko and many other youkai in this region are in danger from the mountain you seek. The holiness of its aura has pushed many things north, which once lived on the mountain and the lands surrounding it."

Her tongue darted out to wet dry lips. It was an anxious gesture; he had never known her to be anxious.

"These neko, in particular, know me and my scent – and they may know Naraku. He sent me as envoy here, sure that I could sway them to his cause."

Her smile was gloating and haunted both.

"There were not in the least receptive to his desires."

"That is…encouraging."

He was not looking at her any more; his thoughts were distracted by the mention of the mountain.

"Kagura…is Naraku truly incapable of penetrating the spiritual aura of this place? Why would that be, when he has defied other spiritual powers?"

She shook her head.

"I do not know the way of all Naraku's weaknesses. If I did, I would have destroyed him myself, and taken back my own heart! Probably it is because there is no one to corrupt here. Only a few pilgrims journey to the mountain, and many do not even make it halfway."

It was both more and less of an answer than he had expected. It seemed she was hiding nothing from him, but that was a dangerous assumption to make.

_Still, it seems that I have no choice but to place my trust in her…for now. _

It was Kagura's turn to watch him carefully, feeling the changes in his expression with her eyes.

"You are beginning to trust me, Miroku-Houshi, and I did not expect it of you! Do you realize now that my heart waits for the same freedom as yours?"

Her eyes glowed at him, reaching, and something suddenly shielded itself from his sight, hurrying to hide behind features that became smooth. The pebbles had been dropped, and the lake had rippled, but now it was calm again and the stones were far beneath the surface.

Kagura shook her head at her own silent thoughts, ignoring the Houshi's eyes on her. What irony, that suddenly she should feel so much without a heart. Perhaps this Houshi was not…good for her?

_Good for me. As if that had anything to do with it. _

She cast her eyes over him, searching, appraising.

"I lured your companion away with the promise of an easy hunt. The forest game is spare here, and I knew he would take advantage. It would not be wise to mention me. He is intelligent, but his own instincts will warn against looking well on one who consorts with…"

Her splayed fingers gestured elegantly at her own form. Slowly, she stepped close to him, leaned in closer. She engaged the dilation of his pupils and the quickening of his breath. She leaned back, amused by the maleness of him. Her laughter was throaty. For a moment, Miroku paused to think if he had ever heard it before, but came up empty. It was a rich sound.

"Kagura…when you are not doing Naraku's bidding, what do you do? How do you keep yourself?"

Real surprise captivated her features.

"When Naraku does not call for me, I am as free as I can be, now. I am allowed to travel the wind currents and seek new air, as long as I return when he desires it. I fly high, and far, and look on strange peoples and breathe strange breezes, and then I must return."

She sighed, and her eyes were distant, and pierced him with longing. She turned his question at him, slid it down the angle of her eyes.

"And what about you, Miroku? What do you do when you are not hunting Naraku?"

He gave her an easy smile.

"When I am not hunting him, I work to strengthen myself, and contemplate the possibility of my death. I try to find…peace with it. I am also seeking new breaths, Kagura."

Was he mocking her? A pink flush of anger crept across her throat and into her cheeks. The stain brightened the red of her eyes. The gentleness of his humor was immaterial – was she not worthless enough already? Like a well used maid servant, to be left out in the cold when her work was done. Quietly, he spoke again.

"I am not mocking you, Kagura. The air we breathe is a gift, a curse, a treasure we seek. Without it I am nothing – and so are you. Didn't you see how grateful I was for the breeze you sent over me?"

She was shocked to stillness. Even Naraku could not read her, did not know the movement of her.

"It is lucky that Naraku cannot read me as well as you, Miroku."

_And now she calls me by name?_

He stared in silence, doubly surprised.

"Naraku does not know my heart, though he holds it. My thoughts are dark to him, or I would not be here now."

It was a strange admission. Kagura turned from him, and walked away, her steps steady and slow. Within a moment, she paused and turned back.

"I am going now."

She did not usually say good bye. A smile touched the corners of Miroku's mouth, and he stayed where he was, watching her go.

* * *

Between the flat stretches of water that declared growing rice and the edge of trees, Kohaku ran down the green strip at the end of the forest. The dark splash of Naraku's miasma-infected shard had spread to a wide, gripping spider-mark that clutched at his whole shoulder.

The trees and the air spoke to him and then ran away. A mark of evil was on him now, and only darkness was drawn to the search in his aura. He had grown used to the pulse that moved through his blood. His hands clenched behind the pressure of power that flowed from the corrupted shard in to his flesh. They wanted to rend and tear, his hands, and feel slick blood flow down and over them.

If he clenched his fist around his weapon, the desire intensified, his power grew, and his eyes flashed red with battle lust. Still, he was disturbed, his thoughts uneasy, his steps sometimes broken. He was beginning to encounter flashes of places he remembered through the dark haze.

A particular tree, a fragrance of burned blossoms, the curve of sunlight gleaming like a broken - toothed smile behind the mountains. A face came into his thoughts, a woman laughing. The memory threatened to widen a hole inside him where light came through. For a moment he saw himself, also laughing, free of shadows.

His arm and shoulder were suddenly a black ache, throbbing the memory into silence. Behind him, buzzing along the path as they had the whole long journey, Saimyoshou droned on and on, pushing the insects of the region into silence.

"Why are you following me?"

His young voice was tight with agony. The lingering will of Naraku was as strong on them as it ever was; there came no audible answer. There was a shift in that pale hum, a momentary pause of noise where wings stilled and the drone drowned itself out.

"Follow you? You are behind me!"

There was a whisper in the air, the whisper of the name that was his task. The jishaku hanging on his belt pressed against his thigh, and capture his attention. A defiled will renewed its grip on him, turning him in the direction that the Saimyoshou indicated, pulling him along that road.

The deeper awareness of Kohaku that still lingered in broken fragments of memories and a desire to turn and run was being held back, squeezed in a fist without mercy. One hand wandered away from his side, and gripped the magnet. Souls called out to him, speaking of what it was to be trapped.

With a wide, wicked smile that did not belong on his face, he tightened his hand, feeling his nails dig against the impossibly smooth surface. It was blacker than the space between the stars.

Even as his thoughts touched on it, the magnet gained a translucent glow, and then faded. He didn't know if that was what it was supposed to do. He began to run, his footsteps pounding, heavy, and let the magnet drop back against his side.

His master had spoken, directing him. The darkness of the magnet was for Kikyou; the darkness of the shard was for Kikyou. Naraku did not wait patiently. It was time. The hot wind of the short summer nights blew by his face. It carried the scent of water and clean earth; the rotted feeling that permeated all areas under Naraku's control did not carry yet to this distance. He knew he was getting close.

A face flashed into his thoughts, again, the same face, the same smile. A warm hand joined it, a soft laugh. He shook his head, tasting sourness at the back of his throat. The infrequent call of the darkened memories, the black pit of his own soul, could not now concern him. The deep control of the black shard was new and untarnished. The one thing he knew still was his own name. Naraku had not seen fit to give him a new one.

The scent and power of a demon reached him and Kohaku twisted, testing the wind. New heights had been given to his senses, and he could feel sleeping power. Now he understood why the aura of Naraku did not taint this place. This was the edge of Inuyasha's forest, and the village which lay beyond, that he protected.

He would be in danger of detection soon. Inuyasha's miko would sense both the shard and the jyaki of miasma, but Kikyou might still be at a distance which would prevent his discovery.

_Yes. Kikyou. Where are you, Kikyou?_

In his thoughts there was no curiosity, only obedience. At his belt the jishaku glowed brightly for another eye-stinging moment, and then dimmed again. It tugged at him, with threads more powerful that the influence of the Saimyoshou, pulling his consciousness in the direction he must go. How the object knew this, and could tell him, he had no idea.

* * *

A/N: And, onward! Please Review!


	10. Chapter 10

X.

Dishabille

* * *

Inuyasha's growls had grown tense; their meaning was not subtle. Kouga wanted to be alone with Kagome - alone with her, his mate. He could hear the voice of the Inu, the possessive instinct, telling him that this Wolf could not be trusted. Kagome could barely hear a thing, but to Kouga's ears those growls were a sharp warning that grew the longer he stood by Kagome's side, the more he demanded that Inuyasha leave them alone.

"I told you, Inuyasha! This message has nothing to do with you!"

Grimly, Kouga focused on Kagome, pleading for clemency with her. It seemed his only chance.

_Nothing to do with you, Inuyasha…just a little lie. _

"You know I am only asking out of courtesy, Inuyasha. I could take her to tell her, if I wished."

A smile that was also a snarl moved like a wraith on Inuyasha's face. Kagome turned, concerned, touching his cheek. Inuyasha's voice was true to form, rough and glowing with possession.

"Try, Kouga. You could not take her."

Kouga huffed, but he remembered the unreal quickness of the hand that had stopped him by the side of Kagome's bathing spring; his thoughts stampeded.

_He might actually be able to stop me. But then…how am I going to get Kagome alone? Should I ignore the Houshi, his warning?_

"Inuyasha."

The word slid from Kagome's throat, and the open concern on her face was touching. Her fingertips on Inuyasha's lips, asking permission, was tearing.

"I will go with Kouga, and you will follow my scent closely. Kouga knows I am yours. You don't have to be afraid for me."

Inuyasha stayed still, nodded once, and released her. His eyes reached out to Kouga like licking flames, burning.

"You do not have long, Kouga. Be quick."

Kagome picked her way across the darkening meadow towards the forest, and waited for Kouga at the edge of the trees. Together, silent, they walked into the brush and sat on a log.

"You probably think that I asked you out here so that I could try to convince you to leave Inuyasha."

It was not a question, but Kagome smiled and answered him anyway.

"The thought had occurred to me, but since you mention it this way I will assume that is not it after all.

His voice turned harsh.

"That could never be it, Kagome. You cannot leave Inuyasha now – you are his mate until you die."

He stood, and paced away from her and back, refusing to meet her eyes.

"There is something…the Houshi said I should tell you, but not Inuyasha. He said that Inuyasha's anger would be deadly.

His smirk showed how little he believed that to be true.

"What, another message from Miroku?"

Kouga swallowed, remembering the monk's harsh words, the echo of misunderstanding in them.

_Kagome is Kikyou's reincarnation. Kikyou is the one upon whom Naraku's desires turn. She has no flesh!_

For a moment, holding the words back in his throat, he wondered how Kagome would react. Would she feel defiled, or disgusted, or disappointed? A tiny particle of his soul hoped for disappointment, for the hint of special caring that had never come.

"I…met…Kikyou, Kagome."

Her eyes widened at that name. She had not even known he knew it. Swiftly, as though the name had opened a floodgate, words spilled out of his mouth.

"I took her, Kagome, loved her, lay with her, but then she went from me and left with me with nothing."

While Kagome was struck dumb, he rushed onward, looking now only at her hands. They were shaking, her hands.

"Your Houshi told me her name and her nature, about the soul she shares with you, about the desire of Naraku that follows her and taints the shikon no tama. The Houshi said that Naraku would seek everyone with vengeance when he knew. He desires Kikyou for himself, and anyone who touches her will be burned by his wrath."

His words fell into silence, and he could finally look at her face.

"The Houshi said that this is the reason Naraku hunts Inuyasha, and even you – because of Kikyou. He said…that Naraku makes no difference between you – that you were both Inuyasha's women."

Abruptly, Kagome stood.

"No, Kouga. Only I am Inuyasha's woman."

There was a faint, hot scent of anger rising from her skin. He paused, contemplating. Anger? Why would that be? He knew; he knew that feeling.

_Jealously...old, broken. _

"Kikyou belongs only to herself. The vengeance Inuyasha seeks is for the sake of memory, and wrongs against his own honor."

Another huff escaped Kouga. She did not really seem affected by his revelation at all; he growled, scowled, threw a dark look over his shoulder.

"As if that mutt had honor!"

For a moment, he had forgotten that she was now Inuyasha's mate. She punched him, hard, right in the stomach. It was so unexpected and she was so angry that she actually winded him.

"He is not a_ mutt_, Kouga! I will not hear you call him that again."

She turned away and then back.

"And he has honor, Kouga. More honor than you know."

He was hurt, but so was she , and without waiting for him she turned back towards the village, and Inuyasha. The hanyou was waiting, ears tilted forward, eyes trained expectantly on the trees.

"Kagome."

She kissed him, deliberately, insistently, but Inuyasha had no problem showing his possession of her to Kouga. His lips slid from her mouth and along her jaw, until his teeth made near-invisible dents in the skin of her smooth throat.

Inuyasha's eyes met Kouga's, and the noise that slipped from between his teeth was more eloquent than any words, containing a hundred thoughts. The demon beneath his skin peered out at Kouga, and laughed.

_She is mine, she is mine, and you cannot touch her. Look, wolf. See the desire in her? It belongs to me! Do you suffer from what you cannot have?_

The scent of Kagome's arousal was tinting the air. Silence grew through it, and Inuyasha did not move. Kagome was oblivious.

"Good-bye, Kagome."

He said nothing to Inuyasha. There was nothing to say. His feet turned him, and he walked back between the trees. His body was betraying him, but not to the anger he wanted. The scent of Kagome's desire only reminded him of Kikyou. He was frustrated by it. Instead of anger, wanting, and instead of Kagome, there was Kikyou.

His desire was pointless. How could he find her? He would never find her. There was no way to know…

"Kouga."

For the moment in which his name hung in the air, everything else was still and silent.

"Wolf."

As she spoke again, time returned to itself, and the silence flew. With quick steps he drew near her, grabbed her arm and pulled her tight against his body.

_What is it that makes this woman different, when her face is the same? What is it that makes me desire her?_

Roughly, he kissed her. She was resistant, cold ,and then suddenly pliant in his hands. It was as though a great knot had suddenly been loosened, and now was flying loose across the sky as a length of silk. His hands wandered hungrily, tasting the curves and angles he already knew as if with long memory.

Like a pink shock, power suddenly glowed over him and startled him away. Her eyes were dark now.

"You!"

Anger and delight both rippled through him. He had not expected to have to win her, not after she had given herself so freely. The chase was a good part of the hunt. With slow, unmistakable intention, Kouga pushed through the power and grabbed her, holding her. The pain ran through him like liquid fire, a strange pleasure, an intensity of sensation. That it did not really hurt him only proved that his desires were not really unwanted.

"You did not withhold yourself last time, miko…Kikyou."

The power fluttered and died as her eyes widened.

_He knows my name! How does he know my name? What else does he know?_

Kouga pressed his advantage, sealing her lips with his mouth, holding her in silence with the depth of his kiss. Her arms still fought against him, but her mouth was yielding, sweet as berries. The tiniest moan escaped her, trapped by his tongue, but it was enough. Rough again, he pulled away and held her hands apart from her body.

"You want me, Kikyou. Tell me you want me."

It was a game. A game of desires and submission. She wanted to subdue him, hold him in thrall? That was not the way of it, not for him. He was the alpha of his pack, and it was the female who would submit. She obviously did not know this – she attempted scorn, her voice lapping at his skin.

"I will not tell you anything, wolf. You must take it from me."

He shook his head, and crouched so that his bangs fell over his eyes, shadowing his face. When he lifted them again to look up at her, they were dark, shining with red.

"Who said I would waste my time taking anything from you? What do you have worth taking?"

He smiled, and the fangs that snuck over his lip sent a shiver across her skin.

"Tell me you want me, Kikyou, or you will have nothing."

She closed her eyes, and turned away from that gleam, still peering at her. It haunted her even when she was not looking, and she found her thoughts warming, her softest parts filling with a heat that was familiar now.

"This is a dangerous time to look away, Kikyou. If I wanted you, I could have you – now!"

She opened her eyes, and the look on her face was suddenly so empty that the red died from his eyes. He desired suddenly to...comfort her.

"You do not want me, Kouga?"

Into that silence, to that question, there was only one answer.

"Stupid woman…"

This time, she yielded without any pretense of resistance, without playing at being coy or turning away. The tightness of her fingers on his neck was seductive, the lidded closeness of her eyes an aphrodisiac. He did not need it.

His breath on her neck was warm and fragrant. The musk of his skin was mountainous, full of wild springs and cedar. Details she had not noticed before jumped out at her – the silkiness of his hair, the calluses on his hands.

Kouga pulled her haori away from her shoulders and kissed them. Shivers moved down her back like flames, and he teased her lips with his tongue. His desire was skillful, and when her haori did not cooperate the way he wished, he pushed her away and undid the ties that kept her skin from him. Cloth slid down her shoulders and pooled at the bend of her elbows.

That most immediate desire fulfilled, he watched her eyes, the black, wanting roundness of her pupils and the way her lips parted for a moan. He ran his thumbs over the hard points of her nipples, teasing with the gentlest pressure even when she pressed against him. There was no need for him to ask if he gave her pleasure. Sounds, so many sounds, spilled out of her throat like a husky caress.

The last time, the first time, there had been swiftness, desire, silence. Now, he was intent on taking his time. It felt new, all of it, from the slim grasping of her arms to the quiet pant of her breath.

She was not holding back - she had experienced pleasure, and wanted it, and sought his touch with the shift of her hips against his body. Her own lips were hesitant against his throat, and she did not move to relieve him of his leathers and furs.

A quick shove was all it took to push her away from him again. The sight of her, disheveled, her haori hanging open over her breasts and the mark of his mouth on her throat, was darkly pleasing.

"Don't you want me, Kikyou?"

To her dismay, the flush of crimson that rushed into his eyes again only filled out the heat in her belly. Was this really why she had come?

_Yes. I wanted him. Not to question him, just to have him. Kouga. _

"Yes…I - want you."

He stood still, and smiled, and waited. She came to him slowly, and her hands were soft. First the armor, unbuckling, and then down, over his shoulders, sliding to the leaves that crunched under their feet. Her fingertips brushed him like silk, barely touching his skin. He did not like the sudden feeling that she was afraid to touch him, but then he looked at her face and saw sensual delight, a slow awakening. Her desire was for him, just for him, the touch he gave her.

Her hands slipped to the fur cuffs on his wrists, slid them down over his hands, and dropped them. Her eyes gulped, and then her hands moved again, unwrapping the wide strip of fur that served him as a belt. With a finger on her lips, he stopped her, and tugged at her waist. Her cheeks flushed, and her mouth parted in a soft 'o', but she untied the fabric that held her hakama, and the soft silk underclothes she wore slid to the ground at her feet just as quickly.

Kouga's eyes followed the rippling cloth, the smooth lines of her limbs. His eyes were drawn to the soft fluff of curls above her sex, the glistening dampness there, and up again to the darting of her tongue to wet her lips.

He smiled, slowly, enjoying the expectation of things he was going to do to her. He untied the fur that wrapped his legs, and shook them off, and then pulled away the last layer between them. Her eyes flickered over his body, full of desire, and he pulled her close and lifted her into his arms with glowing eyes. A few short yards away from them, a flat rock that still held sun warmth lifted out of a stream that broke into thin channels, only a few inches deep.

Kouga lay her on her back, and bent between her thighs. His eyes stilled her, silenced her, stroked her.

"I am going to kiss you, Kikyou."

* * *

"Sesshomaru-sama, we do not seek to trouble you – truly! But we must find your brother- surely you must know of a way!"

Sesshomaru stood, and remained silent for the moment of a piercing glare. The recipient cowered, but did not stay silent, and his companions urged him on with their silent presence. For three days, he had suffered these complaints, a hundred different youkai all clamoring, and all for the same thing. That he had no interest in aiding them did not seem to have made an impression.

"Apparently, you have not been listening. I do not concern myself with Inuyasha. The half breed does what he wants. If you have need of him, I suggest you find him yourself."

The youkai groveling at his feet raised his head an inch higher from the ground and spoke in a trembling voice.

"But, Sesshomaru-sama, we are afraid to go to Inuyasha-sama!"

Something between a smirk and a snarl crossed Sesshomaru's face so briefly it might not even have been there.

"It defiles all youkai everywhere for you to fear him. He is only a half demon."

He did not need to say that they should fear him just as much, fear him more, but the demons who petitioned him had not suffered at his hand – it had been Inuyasha's. Furious nodding broke out around him, agreeing with his words, but the fearful expressions on many faces did not fade.

"We know he is only hanyou, lord, but he has defeated the lords of our clans and tribe. The right of challenge is clear – it is he who must lead us. Please, you must find Inuyasha-sama!"

Now Sesshomaru noticed the honor they gave his brother, the title that did not belong to him.

"Inuyasha is not a lord."

Stubborn about this one thing, refusing to listen, the youkai shook his head.

"Inuyasha-sama has conquered our leaders. The way of battle makes it clear: A lord is born in the challenge, not always by the blood."

"And there are no sons in the line of your lordship?"

Silent heads shook around him. For a moment, Sesshomaru reflected on many changes that were coming.

"Sesshomaru-sama, Inuyasha-sama is too powerful for us to approach. He may kill us without waiting to hear our words."

_That is probably true. Inuyasha is impulsive._

"And, lord…they say he has taken a miko as his mate!"

"Inuyasha has taken a mate?"

Sesshomaru was startled into curiosity.

"So you wish me to find my brother. And if I do, what is it I would tell him?"

This was his way of agreeing, despite protests and without saying so. He was met by many staring eyes, and only one voice.

"That he is our lord. That he must return to those he left leaderless!"

Sesshomaru stared blankly through the youkai who stood waiting for his word.

_How long has it been since he was born? More than a hundred years. He is old for a first mate…but I am older, and I have had no mate. _

Thinking of it again, the birth, the long years, he damned his father for dying, dying to save Inuyasha and _that woman_. His father had been the opponent he wanted to face. The worthy one.

"I will find Inuyasha. Do not return to this place!"

A hundred sighs and the muttering of 'no, no, never' came from the youkai who watched him. Swiftly, feeling the displacement of his aura, the swelling of his displeasure, they slunk away. Sesshomaru paused for a moment, and then turned from the doorway farthest from this meeting courtyard. He spoke to a pair of shining eyes.

"Come, Rin. We are going now."

The girl ran forward with a beaming smile, and Sesshomaru's instant contentment filled him with disturbed surprise. He did not understand it, how she evoked happiness and light emotions in him, how she induced him to protect her. He only knew that until he understood, he would not allow her to leave him.

* * *

"Sango? Sango…"

Bright sun moved in shifting stripes of light and shadow over Sango's face, and she opened her eyes to see Kagome bent over her.

"What…what time is it?"

She brushed the hair out of her eyes with one hand, and then left her hand there to block the sun.

"Late in the morning. I thought I'd wake you, seeing as – "

"Kagome! Kagome!"

Inuyasha's shout was audible from halfway across the village.

"Don't worry, Kagome, I'm awake now!"

There was laughter in Sango's voice, and a few of the worry lines faded from Kagome's face.

"You sound better, finally. I'm going to intercept Inuyasha."

Kagome ducked out the door, and Sango stretched carefully, feeling the tension in her new skin. It had not been many days since she woke, but Kagome and Kaede's treatment had worked wonders. She felt miraculously healed. The flesh of her leg and arm was still tender, but the blisters were healing, leaving long scars.

Sometimes, deep pain traveled through the scars, but mostly she felt…alive. Bright. Strong. Carefully, she stood, testing muscles, and discovered that she no longer had to limp. The motion of her hip was still restricted by the healing skin, but it no longer pained her to rest her weight fully on that leg.

It was time to start training again, to regain the strength she was sure she had lost. It would be good to go now, while Kagome was distracted with Inuyasha. She needed time alone with her weapons, thinking time. The hours she spent alone, with only her blade and Hiraikotsu for company, cleared her head.

When she reached for the boomerang, even lifting it strained the skin that was healing over her wounds, and she let it rest.

"Just my sword for now, then."

She took her blade in its sheath, and walked out into the sun.

* * *

mmm...and back to Ukime...I'm killing myself, too many words, too many words - Please Review!


	11. Chapter 11

XI.

The Conspiracy of Intentions

* * *

The light in the forest was leafy and green, the sun high and bright. A shifting tide of winds moved through the trees and lifted the hair from Sango's shoulders, easing the heat, and she lay her sword against a tree and stretched. It felt good to be out in the open, breathing new, clean air. She could smell the sea, which surprised her; they were not that close to the coast. She breathed it deep, picking out salt, and sand, and the sweet edge that always lines sea air.

In front of her, an old stump stuck up at odd angles, but the wood was smooth and it was tall enough for a high kick. Sango fortified herself with a deep breath, and then began a much lighter conditioning regimen than she normally maintained. The stump shook under every blow, spraying dusty particles of bark into the air. It was odd; the limbs that had been wounded seemed stronger than the healed half of her body. She paused, and closed her eyes for a moment.

_Perhaps it is just that I am not weakened, as I expected. _

After she had counted one hundred kicks, she stopped, and performed a dancing kata, forcing her legs to respond smoothly, move quickly, allowing her sword to melt into her hand. She moved from one end of the clearing to the other, around the stump that now showed the marks of her training, and then stopped to pant, and lean back, and stretch.

After a moment, she turned back to the stump, and began the silent count inside her head.

* * *

Sesshomaru was wandering, awaiting the proper moment to approach his brother, and thinking about Rin. The girl was astonishing, her fear all for humans, not for him, not for his monstrous nature or the savagery of his scorn. She…_loved_ him. He allowed this, because she strengthened him. He had accepted this without thinking about it; what was the reason for letting her follow him, with her inevitable needs, if she did not make him stronger?

_So…this I understand, this way of strength through protection…but I do not think my brother will believe me. He will think it is a trick._

His brother was coming into his own – could the same be said for him? His hatred for Inuyasha had become a casual thing. They had a common enemy, and in a strange way that he hated to admit, he could trust his brother even over Jaken. Whatever death wishes lay between them, and honor aside, they shared blood. They were the sons of the Inu no Taisho…even if there were days that he thought he would never understand his father, or the choices he had made.

He would save these things for another day when they fought alongside one another, and shared the strange, smiling knowledge that they might also share death. Their enemy had colored his view for far too long, a shield that prevented looking at the future. There were no constants; everything changed.

He was walking slowly, ignoring the landscape that passed by him despite its thick summer lushness. As he moved, he began to hear a steady noise, the thwacking sound of something hitting wood. He stalked the sound through the trees. It was distracting, and anything that drew away his thoughts from their current path was welcome

The sound led him to a clearing along the river that flowed past the human village. There was a woman there, alone, and she practiced a routine of hard body conditioning that he had seldom seen among humans. While he watched, her punches and forearm strikes gave way to a long series of shin kicks. The dead wood she was striking was stronger than flesh, but it still was beginning to show the marks of continual battering. When her leg struck the bark, dust flew. The length and shape of her legs would soon be imprinted on the wood. He was…surprised.

Human women did not often condition themselves to great pain, or seek strength. It was their only duty to stay soft and vulnerable for the men. His thoughts smirked. Youkai did not believe such things. A mate must be an equal – a mate was for pups, for companionship, for when the lust came on you and suffocated reason. His thoughts dilated, and then returned.

This woman sought glory for herself, the way a man sought glory, the way youkai sought glory. He understood this. Battle was the true expression of his soul; nothing aroused his senses and exhilarated his blood more than a fight against a worthy opponent. But it had been… a long time. For this woman, he could see that it was the same. As fists and feet pummeled the wood, a fiercely happy expression had consumed all other expression from her face.

A sudden impulse moved him, and he stepped forward from his hidden vantage to catch the next kick she threw. The force of her kick stopped so unexpectedly threw her off balance, but he steadied her with a tug on the leg he had captured.

"You…you are the demon slayer?"

He wanted to smile as he said it.

"Yes. And you are Inuyasha's brother."

His eyes narrowed. He did not like being remembered because of Inuyasha, but there were disturbing things about this woman. Her scent was spicy with sweat, a sweetness of flowers and…sake? It did not matter. Over everything else, the scent of death reared its head and lingered. It was light…like an empty space only just filled, but it was definite.

Sango was struggling in his hold, but it was useless. She could not move more than three inches in any direction without threatening to fall flat on her back.

"Sesshomaru!"

He ignored her. How was it that a strong woman with fierce eyes could be dying? His eyes left her face, searching for wounds, blood, or a sign of sickness. They found the lightning scars, and he continued to ignore the little struggle she was making. Too much movement, and she would overbalance and end up on the ground.

"Sesshomaru, let me go!"

He was surprised that she would speak his name so rudely, when she was at his mercy, but it was amusing in a vague way. His attention was distracted by the scars and the scent that poured from them.

He had seen such wounds once before, but they had not been to a human. The demon had boasted of his scars, and the power of the dragon he had fought and survived fighting, and then he had died. Those wounds had held no mysterious scent of death, but perhaps there had not been time. The woman was human – would the demon scar destroy her, as the scent promised?

Her lips had become thin and white with fury, while he stood contemplating these thoughts and holding her motionless. With a violent twist and a wrench of the leg that had been captured, Sango flung her body up into the air. The foot that had been on the ground missed Sesshomaru's temple by a hairsbreadth. He released his hold on her, and took one step back.

He had seen this woman fight many times, but he had never seen such a dangerous focus of violence in her face.

"What did you want here, Sesshomaru?"

Her teeth were bared with her question, and her eyes sought the sword behind her, stuck at a useless distance. Barehanded, she could not even give him a moment's challenge, but her heart was beating for battle. The muscles in her arms and legs trembled, and then stood fast. The scars were beginning to burn her skin, and she could feel the lessening of her strength, but she would make her body obey her.

Sesshomaru was not interested in a fight.

"You were attacked by a dragon, a dragon who brought storms."

It was not a question.

"What do you feel in your wounds, woman?"

Sango flexed her right arm, felt the new skin stretch, but her eyes did not leave his face. His curiosity was not cooling to her fury. His eyes probed her scars, dark and purplish, a long zigzag line that had been burnt down her shoulder, nearly to her wrist.

"Sometimes there is pain – like a burn beneath my skin. Why are you asking these questions, Sesshomaru?"

His voice remained as toneless as if he were commenting on the weather.

"You are dying, woman. Your scent is thick with it."

Anger was fading out of her, dim with surprise and confusion, but apparently he was no longer interested in her. Smoothly, he turned and walked away.

"What are you talking about, Sesshomaru?"

There was only silence, and the leaves were folding back over the space he had made between them.

"Sesshomaru!"

In another moment he had faded from her sight, and Sango turned back to her training, asking questions of herself that had no answers.

_Dying? How am I…dying? My wounds have healed._

* * *

Miroku walked between the boles of ancient trees, covered in dusky moss, and stared up at their unreachable canopy, awed. Leaves, both old and new, covered the ground like a thick mulch, and the path through the dimness seemed to lead straight onward, before and behind, though he knew that he had been traveling in a wide south-eastern curve.

Ryuk had slowed to allow him to stay abreast of their progress, but the occasional flicker of impatience still crossed the neko's face, and Miroku was reminded of Inuyasha, the demonic lack of patience for human needs, the awareness of strengths that were not shared. The trees grew older around him, the leaves beneath his feet from drier, less recent falls of foliage, and suddenly the path was leading them to a single tree, greater than all the others.

Between the roots, a hollow had been expanded and built upon. A false cavern strengthened with huge bones made a look-out place that protected a wide tunnel with a door, leading beneath the jungle loam.

"It is not usually our way to live beneath the ground, but it is more protected that living in the open, and the caves to the south are closed to us."

"Closed to you?"

Ryuk did not reply. Miroku followed him down the long tunnel, and found it surprisingly smooth underfoot, the walls raw only for the first few yards and afterwards covered with polished boards. The ceiling was flattish, but here and there the ends of roots pricked through the earth and reached for their hair with shaggy, stringy fingers.

Doorways began to appear on both sides, some curtained, some with wooden doors finely fitted. The sounds of children, loud and at play, struck at them from behind one curtain and then rolled out in a lump. The kits spread apart at Ryuk's feet, and looked up bashfully, but he waved them on and gestured for Miroku to continue moving.  
"There are many young ones among us now. Six or seven females gave birth in this past season – those kits will be hearth mates."

He paused to look back and smile.

"Sometimes hearth mates are closer than litter mates. It is good for them to learn the ways, and the play-battles are necessary, but sometimes they are a little…overzealous."

Ryuk heaved the carcass he carried a little higher on his shoulders, and then a tumbling ball of head over heels kit was running toward them.

"Uncle! Uncle! You promised you would take me hunting the next time you went!"

Ryuk's face was suddenly gentler; a surprising thing. Miroku took the opportunity while his host was distracted to peer through the edge of the nearest curtain. Tiny neko were scrambling over each other, none of them with opened eyes. They were soft and adorable like any other infants, and he turned away, enlightened.

_So these youkai…they are not evil, just as Inuyasha is not evil. Inuyasha has human blood to temper him; I wonder what it is that tempered these _neko_?_

He paid closer attention to Ryuk, and watched the young one that called him 'uncle'.

"I am sorry, Hiro, but you were not there, and this boar chose to dive straight across my path – along with quite a few friends, actually. I could not carry them all; the others are cleaned and hung in a cave a few hours from here."

Without all the sharpness, Ryuk was a different person, and Miroku understood that he was closer than 'uncle' usually meant; perhaps this Hiro no longer had a father?

"Hiro, if you want to help, go select a few to come with you and bring home the rest of the meat. Lead them, and come back before dark. We will feast tonight, in honor of our visitor."

The kit grinned, a smile of many sharp teeth at both the promise of meat and the honor of leading the group. His uncle's praise meant much to him. The boy turned to examine Miroku, his eyes fierce, and Miroku returned the measuring gaze, more than a little surprised now.

_He has depths in him, just like our little Shippou. I wonder if they would get along, Shippou and this Hiro?_

"Uncle, why are we honoring a human? Why did you bring him here?"

Ryuk fixed the boy with a smooth look, and shook his head for a gentle reprimand.

"You should not ask questions in such a rude manner before a guest, Hiro. Have I taught you nothing?"

Hiro hung his head; would the honor he had just received now be stripped away, before he had time to enjoy it? How unfair!  
"This man is here to help me find your mother, Hiro. Go now, and pick your group, and track back along my path here. I did not cover my trail."

Hiro sprang back along the passageway, and Miroku let out his breath. He had not realized he was holding it. He found he needed to breathe, badly. Ryuk focused on Miroku's face as the Houshi contemplated his new taste of information.

"No questions here, please. A few more moments, and all your curiosity will be satisfied."

They continued down the hallway, and now there were no more curtains, only doors, and a few bore intricate carvings, golden locks with delicate design, or jeweled hinges. Ryuk opened one such door, and gestured for Miroku to settle himself. Dozens of dark cushions and soft rugs were arranged around a low, polished table. The ceiling had been set with brilliantly painted tiles, mosaics of wave-shapes and floating, light-sailed craft, mosaics of neko in green-fixed jungles, and dark, curling, calligraphic shapes to border it all.

Soft drapes and curtains both textured and silken floated along the walls, and Miroku stood still for a moment, taking it in, before he chose a yellow cushion for himself and sat beside the table. Ryuk took a cushion across from him, lay his hands flat on the polished surface of the table, and watched Miroku's face.

"Are you going to tell me now why you have asked me here?"

Ryuk's eyes glowed with troubles, for a moment a brighter green.

"That kit, Hiro – he is my sister's son. Sixteen nights past, she went out with a group of warriors, seeking the reason why our skies have gained a dankness, a smell of rot.

Sudden focus sharpened Miroku's gaze and brought him forward on his cushion. He had heard similar stories before.

"Now that so many days have passed, the families are beginning to mourn. A few have demanded vengeance, but most are unwilling to travel a path that leads to destruction."

Miroku remained silent, thinking his own thoughts, waiting for more.

"The path that my sister followed was south – I have tracked her far enough myself to know this. This is your direction, Houshi, but for us that direction may be death for a strong reason, impenetrable."

A strange light touched the neko's eyes, and his voice sank low, not much more than a whisper.

"That is the direction of the sacred mountain. That is the direction which is death for all youkai. The great tribes are being forced north, but there is a boundary beyond which they will not go. That is the place of rot. That place is death, but you have come from farther north than that, Houshi. Tell me, what it is that is up there? Why are you traveling south?"

Miroku stayed silent for a long moment, unsure.

_Kagura's warning was well timed. Naraku! If I mention that name now, what will he think? And the mountain. Perhaps…if I tell him everything but Kagura?_

"I am searching for your sacred mountain, Ryuk. It will not hurt me, but it is good to know that it really exists. The source of my information was…unreliable. In the north, the sky darkens, and an evil grows. It is spreading, a poisonous miasma and a black wind. It is Naraku."

Ryuk hissed, a long sound.

"They say that a powerful priest is enshrined beneath that mountain, a man so holy that his bones have enchanted the entire mountain, and a great region around it, with a pure aura. This is true; it is this aura that led us here, away from the homes and hunting grounds of our ancestors."

The neko leaned forward, his eyes dark and flat now.

"But you are Houshi. You may walk on the holy ground, and it will not harm you. Will you continue your journey south with this extra purpose – to seek my sister and those who went with her, their lives or their deaths?"

Miroku stared down at his hands, thinking rapidly, and nodded once, quick. His eyes were dark and serious.

"I will do it, Ryuk. If you will grant me a corner for the night, I would be grateful. In the morning, I will continue south."

"Do you want company, Houshi? Even if my warriors fear the road south, I do not."

Miroku shook his head.

"Thank you, but it is better if I go alone. You could not pass the spirit barrier, and would have to turn back."

Ryuk nodded, and then smiled slowly.

"Good, good, I am glad I did not misjudge you. You think, Miroku, and that is good – also, you are stronger than you look. I am glad you have agreed to help us."

He stood, and stepped back, and bowed low.

"You are weary from your travels, and I was not kind with the pace I set. I will send a bath for you, and robes to relax in, while I make sure Hiro has done what I asked. There are preparations to be made for this evening."

He stepped out the door, and it clicked shut behind him. Miroku sat back, and passed his hands over his eyes, and tried to let some of the tightness ease out of his shoulders. If he did not find the sister of this neko, he would regret it himself. These youkai were not evil, and they were suffering greatly. Was it Naraku, once again?

_Even if I have been lured here, perhaps I can do some good for these _neko_._

He did not believe that Kagura meant to trap him, but there was no telling what depths Naraku would sink to.

* * *

Inuyasha had been sitting with his ears pricked all day, watchful, waiting, all his muscles tense. It did not help that Sango had disappeared, alone; Kagome worried that she had gone off on some fool mission to find Miroku on her own, but Hiraikotsu still leaned against Kaede's wall.

With a suddenness that startled, Inuyasha leapt up from his place beside the fire and started to walk towards the door.

"Kagome, wait here. Do not come outside, do you hear me?"

Her fingers gripped his arm before he could take a step, tight and unyielding.

"Don't be silly, Inuyasha. Would I ever listen to something like that – ever?"

He only paused for a moment, his hand on the hilt of his sword, before he shook his head and swept out the door. It was only a moment longer before she followed him, just enough time to snatch up her bow and quiver. A hot wind was blowing outside, and blew her hair around her face. She batted it away, searching out Inuyasha's shape, but he was already leaving the village, moving into the edge of the trees.

"Inuyasha!"

She knew he could hear her, despite the wind that whipped her voice around, but he did not stop or turn.

_What is it that has got him in such a rush? Not Naraku… I would sense shikon shards if it was Naraku. Kikyou? _

A dark shadow clenched her heart, and then lifted almost at once.

_No. He made his choice. But…what then? Not Kouga again!_

Suddenly, she was worried. If it was Kouga, then Inuyasha would do something stupid…and what if Kouga were to ignore Miroku, and tell Inuyasha that he had claimed Kikyou, brag about it, taunt him with it? There were no illusions in her thoughts about what would happen. Kouga's blood would be everywhere, and over what? A woman who was already dead.

She broke into a flat run, and sped into the trees. There was no sign of Inuyasha – the forest was not thick here, but she could not see him anywhere. Her feet took her right down into the trees, where there was more growth and the light was dimmer, and then she was approaching the clearing where goshinboku stood.

To her left, there was a flash of red.

"Inuyasha!"

She darted after him, and then stopped.

_Oh…this is worse. This is much, much worse than Kouga._

It might be Inuyasha's blood that was everywhere.

"Sesshomaru! What are you doing here?"

Inuyasha's voice was thick with snarl, and it was indeed his brother walking toward him, his face serene, his motions supernaturally smooth.

"Is it true, Inuyasha? You have taken a miko for your mate?"

Stillness came over Inuyasha, like he had been dunked in freezing water from the head downwards.

"And if I have?"

It was a low, dangerous voice that gave Kagome a shiver of pleasure, listening from behind her tree.

"It does not matter to me. I hope you have not sullied our father's blood further by taking the dead miko. The human is preferable, despite her…mortality."

"Kagome is my mate, Sesshomaru. You will not touch her."

Another shiver of pleasure, this one more intense. Why was it so pleasing to hear that rough, possessive tone run Inuyasha's voice ragged?

"I have no desire to touch your miko, Inuyasha. There is a message for you."

Confusion broke through the angry sprawl on Inuyasha's face.

"A message?"

A strange glimmer worked its way across Sesshomaru's face, and he stepped back from his brother, a motion meant to suggest no threat.

"You will come with me Inuyasha. We must…talk."

Inuyasha gulped. For a moment, he felt as if nothing had changed, as if he were three feet tall, clawless, gutless, swordless. Talking with his brother was much, much worse than fighting him.

A - _message?_

_

* * *

_A/N: Dun dun dun!


	12. Chapter 12

XII.

No Promise Without Pain

* * *

Awakening in darkness, feeling cool earth under her hips, Kikyou clutched a warmth that lay next to her and did not allow the memory of why she lay there to overcome her. When she could not hold it off any longer, _memory_ was a silhouette of her own sounds, the sensations of wetness, Kouga's straining face, the enfleshed memory of a tight, new pleasure that had made her body squeeze him motionless.

_What am I trying to do? Why do I continue to succumb to this demon? I should purify him…_

Her eyes dragged across the clearing, focused through the darkness until she found her bow. Silent, she pulled away and lost his warmth. Her eyes caught on his skin, the angles of his relaxation, as if on hooks. His hair straggled across his shoulders, unbound. His disarray was sensual; a fresh bolt of panicked desire sprang through her veins. Desire, for his flesh, and panic, for the constriction of her need.

She forgot that she had been reaching for her bow, drawn to the warmth of him like a moth to flame. His skin was smooth and darker than her own.

*_That tail…*_

The smooth length of his tail curled across his buttocks and over his hip. The out-flung curve of his arm beckoned her, reminded her that the first time, she had suffered no pause when she turned to leave.

_This is the demon spell of seduction that we humans are so susceptible to? Why do I feel no power, no darkness? _

She leaned forward, her face serious, her eyes intent, studying Kouga's sleeping face. One who slept could hold no secrets, could not lie. Many intentions were revealed in a dreamer's expression, and many desires. Kouga's face told her that he was content; he did not stir from her breath on his cheek, or when she relaxed the arm that had held her and sank back down behind him.

Silk wrapped around her leg; his tail, holding her close.

"I have not been sleeping, Kikyou."

In a moment she was standing, brushing away his hands, that clinging silkiness, stepping across to the little bundle of her clothes, damp with mist from the stream that ran along beside them. She only just had time to step into her hakama. Soft skin touched her, his arms beneath her arms, against her heartbeat, his nose in the crook of her neck.

"You think you can leave me again, just like that?"

She tensed, and remained still. Her fingers were tight on the band of her trousers.

"You are my woman, Kikyou. You will not run off into the night."

That was it, her way out. She remembered, when he did not…or did not choose to.

"That was what you said to Kagome. Now she is for Inuyasha, and so you will take me – and for what? For vengeance? For the pleasure of my face? I am not any of the things that girl is!"

His face was dark, for a moment wrathful, and then he only looked hurt. It stung her. She had not wanted him hurt…she had not wanted…

_What do I want? I can't…I don't know! What is it that this wolf wants from me? I am not even 'woman' any more. Even if …I desire him. _

"I belong to no one, wolf. I did not belong to Inuyasha, and I will not belong to you. I should…I should destroy you!"

There was something touching in her manner, something desperate that calmed the moment of anger hot in Kouga's chest.

"I will not deny that when I found you, I thought you to be Kagome…for a moment. And I will not deny that it was Kagome I was…suffering from, when I found you. But it is not Kagome who I want, not now. She was…never for me. I knew that, I always knew that, even when...but you – I do not know who you are, except…"

He smiled, and she could feel it, and turned. His expression was a shiver that lay cool hands on her spine and leaned close.

"Kikyou."

A concord of flesh moved them together, the collision that she could not deny, his hands seeking the firm curve of her breasts, a hot tongue that touched her ear and the long line of her throat, skipped down to tease the point of her nipple. The hard swiftness of his desire prodded her, and she touched him with soft hands. A low noise of pleasure escaped his mouth. A moment passed between them, thick with desires undone again, and then Kouga stepped back, his face wrinkled, his eyes scanning a distance she could not penetrate.

"Someone…something is coming."

Kikyou placed a hand where her heart should be, and closed her eyes. In such _distress_, it was difficult to focus, but the presence loomed large and close. She could not guess how it had snuck up on her.

"There is a strong presence of shikon…very strong. Perhaps it is related to our uninvited guest."

Kouga's eyes had dilated to a pearly focus. He looked black to her, his fingers twitching, claws tensing and relaxing in readiness.

"It is not Naraku, nor one of those who is of Naraku...even though there is something...faintly..."

He stopped, shook his head.

"This is a scent I recognize but…I have no face for it. I do not remember…I know it from somewhere."

_Somewhere that is close to Kagome, I have found this scent. Not on her, but near her. The scent of…_

He could not place it, and growled in frustration.

"Whoever it may be, he's coming quickly. Dress, Kikyou."

She smiled at his concern, and stepped back towards her clothes, began pulling them over her limbs.

"You are slow, Kikyou. I will help you."

His hands were sure, sliding cloth into place, folding, tying, tucking. She was annoyed only for a moment; she could turn now, and watch _him_ dress, the elaborate arrangement of furs and leather that seemed so simple beneath his armor. In her fingers she held the one thing he would miss, and stifled a warm urge to laugh. While his back was still turned, she felt hr eyes widen, reached up on hand to cover her mouth.

_I have not laughed since - since before I died_.

It was a strange thought.

"Kuso!"

Her eyes had drifted down, thick with thoughts, but his exclamation jerked her head up. She held out her left hand, and showed the thin leather thong that dangled from her fingers.

"Looking for this, wolf?"

He pulled the tie from her fingers, and leaned in close, pressed his cheek against her cheek.

"Already I see differences, Kikyou. Kagome is not impudent."

He tied his hair, and then the headband, and fixed her with a warning glance.

"You are my woman."

She smiled, and in her face was an amused denial, but she did not spare a moment to retort.

"Our visitor is come."

She spoke quietly, leaned forward just enough to indicate which direction they were approached from, and Kouga stepped in front of her, guarding. Bushes rustled and parted across from them. A trio of saimyoshou first, humming ominously, and then a dark shape, the shadow of a boy.

"Kikyou. I have come for Kikyou."

She took an unobtrusive step backward, and reached for her bow. With the other hand she readied an arrow, and gave the tiniest nod when Kouga caught her glance. To her eyes, a vast darkness perched on the shoulder of this boy, spoke through his mouth and saw through his eyes. The shikon shard was implanted there, larger than any she had seen in many long months, pulsing with a palpable aura of corruption.

Like black lesions beneath his skin, the evil power writhed along his veins, darkening them to purple-poison lines, giving his face a demonic cast. He lifted a black _something _from his waist, a shape that gleamed with a dark point, defying the eyes, refusing to be identified.

Kouga felt an internal tug, something silent and sleepy coming suddenly awake.

"Kikyou – "

Vivid and blue, the tight round spheres of souls were slipping from her, leaving only a pale essence in the air behind them. They sped to the boy, illuminating his face from below with a blank blue light, but when they reached whatever it was he was holding, they disappeared.

"Kikyou!"

Her eyes were closed, her hair whipped in a wind not of this world. A pause came on everything but the movement of light and wind, and then a new voice was sloughed from the boy's throat, a voice like metal cutting stone in slow motion.

"This is the power of the jishaku no tamashi! Ah, my pretty Kikyou, you chose this mangy wolf over me? How sad of you, and how very poor indeed this shows your taste to be. Your time is up, Kikyou."

She could not move, or blink, or think. Only one thing was left to her, a sensation of blistering loss, the emptiness that she knew would be left behind when all else was taken.

_And so, it is all coming to an end?_

* * *

Kagome stood at the edge of the trees, feeling somewhat discarded, and watched the conversation pass between the two brothers. Something had looked different in Sesshomaru's face, something changed in the way he stood, or spoke, or…something. She couldn't tell. It was just a feeling, but then when had Sesshomaru ever wanted to talk to Inuyasha?

_Better than a bloody slaughter, I suppose, but it could still end that way. Even with nothing but talk…Inuyasha's mouth gets him into more trouble than his sword._

From what she could see through the dimness, it looked like Inuyasha was not doing most of the talking, and she found herself wishing that she had his ears - or at least some way to listen in. There was suddenly a tickle at the edge of her consciousness, a flutter of something that pressed to be recognized, and then faded. She pushed it away, stared forward harder.

_Inuyasha…I feel - I feel -  
_

"What is it you want, Sesshomaru? Why did you come here?"

His brother looked down at him, and Inuyasha fumed silently, wishing that he had been born taller, so that at least the infuriating look of superiority would be eye-level.

"Not to question you about your love life, certainly."

Inuyasha growled; Sesshomaru continued to stare down at him, and then finally looked away, out across the fields to where the moon was slipping up over the horizon.

"I have been visited, Inuyasha. I have been harassed, and annoyed, and I am tired of it."

Inuyasha smirked.

"Well isn't that just so awful for you. Everyone must want to kill you, not just me, you're such a bastard-"

"It seems that the free tribes of the south and west are seeking you out, Inuyasha. All of them. They sent more than a hundred emissaries, all begging and groveling, to ask me to find you - because they are afraid and think you will kill them."

Again, that smirk, but this time there was a certain uneasiness in Inuyasha's manner.

"What do they want, then?"

It was hard to be sure, but Inuyasha thought he saw something like amazement flicker for a moment behind Sesshomaru's stone features.

"You have no idea, do you? How like a half-breed, to know nothing of youkai tradition."

Inuyasha was snarling now, up on his toes, every bit of his posture screaming hostility, his desire for battle, but Sesshomaru took one step back, contemptuous.

"These youkai desire you for their lord, Inuyasha, though I cannot imagine why. Through right of combat, by slaying their lords and those eligible for leadership, you have become lord to them all."

He fixed Inuyasha with a scathing look, and held him spellbound with words.

"All this time, traveling the countryside, seeking the shikon no tama, and not once did you stop to think of what you were doing! Slaying the strongest, and taking their power, leaving leaderless tribes in your wake, creating chaos! And you had no idea."

Inuyasha finally turned away from his brother's face, forced a shrug out of himself.

"I don't know what they want me for. I am concerned with Naraku, and the shikon no tama, not some mob of youkai in the south."

"You should be concerned, Inuyasha, very concerned. They are coming north, these youkai and all of their kin. They are coming into the reach of Naraku's influence, and they will remain there because the south is polluted by a holy aura which is growing day by day."

A horrified look crept across Inuyasha's face.

_Coming north? All the villages, all the people…they will be like leaves in the wind if this horde comes seeking me out._

"I have told them to stay where they are, that I will bring you to them."

Sesshomaru's eyes were piercing.

"In three days, I will come back here, and you will either come with me, or I will kill you and take your place. Think hard, Inuyasha."

Sesshomaru turned and swept away, as untouchable and dignified as ever. Inuyasha stood, staring at the ground, hearing nothing. His thoughts were confused, but he was mostly irritated that Sesshomaru would have come with such a pronouncement. Then again, bringing messages about Inuyasha's impending lordship over half the youkai in Nihon was probably pretty high on the list of things that were sure to piss his brother off - in fact, it might even be at the _top_ of that list -

The sound of running footsteps and Kagome's fingers tight on his arm snapped him out of his reverie. There was a scent wafting near them, a mélange of scents…who was that?

"Inuyasha, there's a shikon shard, I'm sure of it! Inuyasha?"

His face was distracted; she was not sure he had heard her.

_Kikyou…and Kouga…and Kohaku? Kohaku!_

"Shikon? Where, Kagome? I can smell...Kohaku. It has to be him -"

He pulled her up onto his back, and gripped her legs tightly. He could follow the urging of her particular distinction, until he was close enough that the scents could lead him in a straight line.

He could feel her shaking her head against his shoulder, her face turned out of the wind so she could talk.

"Kohaku only has the one shard, doesn't he? This feels much stronger…much, much stronger."

"But then who? I can smell him, tainted by Naraku. Kouga and - and Kikyou are with him."

His said the name gingerly, as if afraid of her response, but all the heat had drained from Kagome's body; despite the clinging humidity of the summer night, the air suddenly tasted dry and flat.

_Kikyou…and Kouga. If Inuyasha finds out!_

She wondered about Kohaku's presence, thinking of the warning that had come from Miroku, through Kouga.

_If Naraku finds out, he will be more vengeful than before, that was his message…and is this the outcome of that vengeance?_

She shuddered. They had all feared for a long time that a day might come when Kohaku would have to die. Who among them would be able to watch Sango's grief then?

_Where are you, Sango? Where have you been all day?_

* * *

_Very soon, priestess Kikyou, you will be nothing more than a discarded shell, an empty vessel. I can fill that shell with anything I want, Kikyou. Anything…_

Naraku watched through Kohaku's eyes. Pity did not occur to him. Mercy was a flaw of mortality. He moved his lips, and the words came out of Kohaku's mouth, twisted by distance and darkness.

"Do you see the gate of hell yet, Kikyou? I have waited for a long time, to watch you die."

"Kohaku! Kohaku, don't do it. Please, Kohaku, can't you fight him yet?"

Naraku heard a woman's voice and felt a ripple of disturbance.

_That woman!_

There was a shudder in his control over the boy. The hand holding the jishaku wavered, and then fell. Kikyou suffered a long shudder, and then dropped, to be caught by the wolf.

_That woman! How did she come to be here? She is always getting in the way! I should have killed her when I had her in front of me; it was a mistake, to try and use her too. _

Sango stared at her brother, her face pale, her eyes wide and horrified. The changes in him were not to be believed; an evil pulse beat from him, and taunted her. Kirara had come to her, agitated in that certain way, and she known that it was Kohaku, Kohaku, near her again. The voice she had been hearing, just as she came – surely that could not be Kohaku's voice!

"Kohaku?"

She was pleading, and now Naraku's hold was disrupted enough that he could no longer see the scene in front of the boy's eyes. How could his feeling be strong enough to disrupt the power?

"I am…I have come for Kikyou. You…you…run away!"

There was a tremble in Kohaku's returned voice, a flash of brown in his flat, black eyes. Sango turned, and suddenly took in the other accomplices to this drama.

_Kikyou…and Kouga? What on earth…_

It was Kikyou who turned, her head cocked at a strange angle in Kouga's grasp, and spoke softly.

"What will you do...with this...boy? It is obvious...you care for him."

The miko closed her eyes, obviously weak for a reason Sango could not see. She had not been in time to see what it was that her brother had done to the fleshless woman, but a grim thought came to her.

_Perhaps not enough young maidens have died this season. _

Despite Inuyasha's feelings and the wishes Kagome had expressed, Sango did not approve of the undead miko. Even youkai belonged to the natural world, but Kikyou…everything about Kikyou was wrong. She saw Kouga holding her solicitously, a skewed moment that slid through her thoughts with nothing to cling to.

Behind her, there was a splash of noise and a rush of red, and then Inuyasha deposited Kagome beside her.

"Sango, how did you get here before us, and what…"

Inuyasha's question trailed into silence. He could see Kikyou, entirely motionless now, and Kouga, holding her, touching her, peering into her face with concern.

"Wolf, what did you do to Kikyou?"

There was only a laugh, a strangled, startled noise - Sango.

"Inuyasha, you idiot. It was Kohaku, Kohaku who killed her."

Kagome moved forward quickly to touch Inuyasha's arm, spoke lowly.

"She is not dead. She is not dead, Inuyasha, I would know, I would be…whole."

By a slant of her eyes, she watched Kouga's face, saw the cool relief creep over him, and then anger.

"This boy is serving Naraku? Then why stand around talking? I will kill him!"

He lay Kikyou gently on the grass, and then he was a streak of claws, aimed for a killing blow. He struck, or thought he did – Sango's high scream split his skull, and then he saw the light that was gathering around his claws, a blackness that was a light. His fingers felt as though they were being melted, and then his hand, up along to his arm.

Cursing, he pulled back, and Sango's scream turned into a sob. Suddenly she had a desire to be done with the damning reality of her world. She could not kill her own brother, but how many had he killed? Was it not only because of her, her desire to save him, to free him, that he had been allowed to continue on, causing so much harm? As though she were behind a glass wall, Sango watched Kouga moved forward again, his face intent, flushed dark in his battle lust, his rage. The sounds were dulled, but while she watched she did not know what she wanted.

Kouga drew blood with a renewed attack, felt it burn, laced with miasma, and wondered how the flesh of a human boy could take such distortion. There was suddenly a dart of presence in among them, a white flash that shoved Kouga aside effortlessly, plucked up Kohaku by the throat, and shook him.

_Sesshomaru!_

Sango was dazed. Kikyou, through fluttering eyelids, watched and smiled to herself.

_So, all the players have assembled. I do not think Naraku expected such a thing. But...if he did, does he know that it is for the sake of the boy, and not for me?_

With a deft, curling motion of claws Sesshomaru reached into Kohaku's flesh, and pulled out the tainted shard of jewel. The power of the blackened shard did not interest him, except as an item of distrust. Instantly, Kohaku went limp, pale and ghostly, and Sesshomaru tossed the shard onto the ground at Kagome's feet.

"You are the one who can purify the taint, so do it. This boy will not be killed. Rin does not desire it."

Imperious, he reached out, pointing at Sango.

"You, his sister. Come and take him from me."

In something of a daze, Sango stepped forward, and accepted the solid weight of her brother, heavy in her arms. She had to say something, didn't she? Suddenly her thoughts were numb with the memory of his daylight words.

_You are dying, woman._

"Sesshomaru…thank you…"

With the sharpness found only in a well-used sword, he turned away from her.

"I did not do it for you, woman. This is for Rin. You are going to die – the boy will not."

Inuyasha stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You won't hurt Sango, Sesshomaru. You will have nothing to do with any of them!"

Blankly compassionless, Sesshomaru calmly stepped away, back the way he had come.

"I harm no one. That woman - she is already dying."

Inuyasha stared after him, his face an open question, but it was Kouga who answered him, turning away from Kikyou, still on the ground, his eyes still dark on Kohaku in Sango's arms.

"It's true. She does smell like death. I thought it was your village before, when I came to bring the Houshi's message, but it isn't. It is just her, just this woman."

Sango felt their eyes on her, the unspoken questions, and an unexpected anger struggled up inside her. She held Kohaku tighter, and turned her own face away from their scrutiny. Suddenly, she felt as though she were less than human. As though - she was already dead.

* * *

A/N: let's see, a bloodlust chapter, now a this chapter, does that leave...ukime? I think it does! But me=typing through a ten hour shift at work; you=Review Please Dammit! :D


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Shadows of Thorns

On the long walk back to the village, no one noticed that Shippou, the only one who seemed missing, had indeed been following them. Rather, he had been following Kagome, as he liked to do when he could get away from whatever caretaker he had been assigned. He did not trust Inuyasha completely when he said that Kagome was his mate. The scents were right, but did he act differently? He just…touched her more. His hands were always on her, as if he were guiding her every footstep, but did that really mean that he wouldn't run off to Kikyou in the middle of the night?

If he did, then Shippou would come and beat him, no matter how strong Inuyasha was….because that was the worst thing that could happen, now that he had a family again.

Peering between the tall reeds and grass, Shippou watched along the path. He had kept up with Kagome, until Inuyasha had taken her, and following her scent was slow. Now, he could hear them coming back, all of them, and his nose twitched, picking out the scents of their multiple companions. Inuyasha and Kagome had been joined by Sango, Kouga, Kohaku and Kikyou!

_Kikyou is coming? Why is she coming? If Inuyasha is bringing her, Kagome will not like that at all. Even if she doesn't _say _anything_.

He was older than they thought, except maybe Inuyasha, and he was smarter, too. If Kikyou came to stay, there would be trouble. When Kikyou came, there was always trouble.

"…And he came right up, very fast, and caught my leg – "

"What are you talking about anyway, Sango?"

Shippou grinned. It was Sango, being interrupted by Inuyasha. She was stuttering now, denying any importance in the conversation, and Inuyasha was not one to care.

"Fine, talk about _nothing_ more quietly, then."

He couldn't see her face, but he knew she was scowling at Inuyasha's rudeness, the same as always. Usually, there was Miroku between them, or Kagome, but Miroku was gone and Kagome was no longer capable of reprimanding Inuyasha in the same way. He still wore the beads of subjugation, but in the time since he had claimed her Shippou had never once heard 'Osuwari' pass her lips…and not for a time before, either, if he was remembering correctly.

It had been Inuyasha who would not take them off, the morning they came back and Kagome was 'mate', and Inuyasha who insisted that it was just because she had saved him once with them, and it could someday, maybe, happen again. Shippou knew that it was because once, he had…_changed_….and in the bloodlust, the beads could save her from him - someday, maybe - if it happened again. Inuyasha was afraid.

"I do not understand why this boy is allowed to live. He serves the enemy – the enemy of all of us."

That was Kouga, and Shippou could not understand his vehemence, having missed the forest confrontation. In the dimness, he could see the glow of his Wolf-eyes, bright and yellowing with his passion, with the _reason_ that Shippou could not understand.

They were walking past him now, and Shippou sat back in the grass, astonished. Kikyou, draped across Kouga's arms? If Inuyasha allowed such a thing, then perhaps he was really cured of desire for the dead priestess. Kohaku was sleeping, or unconscious, in Sango's arms. Her face was blank, dazed, her eyes dull and without reflection. She had not been that way for a long time. Inuyasha strode along ahead, as usual, and Shippou paid him no attention, because Kagome was not in his arms or on his back, but wandering along a pace behind Sango, turning a shining pink shard over and over in her hands.

_Shikon no tama! Is it from Kohaku?! But then…he would be dead, and he would smell…of death…_

He slunk carefully onto the path behind Kagome, watching, testing scents from the fresh air their owners had just passed through. Kohaku's scent smelled only of himself, and Naraku. Death lingered, but it was not of the boy - it was on Sango.

_Who did she kill?_

He wondered, but returned to Kohaku's scent. He had come from Naraku; not too long ago, they had been together…but who knew how far Kohaku had been sent to find them, and by what means?

The foursome was getting out of sight now, while he stood here in the middle of the path. Could he catch up quietly, and continue to listen, or should he move past them if he could, and reach the village first?

_Then Kagome won't scold me, and I'll be able to go out with her tomorrow if she is going into the woods._

Quick as the thought, he scampered into the brush, and then ran quickly down through the grass towards the village. He passed them by again, but did not pause to listen. There were angry words, Sango's words, and Kouga's, and a low ease of calmness from Kagome.

_Will they even make it home in one piece? Kouga had best be careful…Inuyasha's been spoiling for a fight._

He had no doubt that in a confrontation, Inuyasha would kill Kouga, and glory in it, and make Kagome very sad. This was both good, and bad, but if nothing else, Shippou was glad of one thing. Kagome needed a mate, and he was glad she had chosen her strongest suitor – the one who could protect her best.

* * *

Kaede stood from her place beside the fire as they tramped through, many more than had left, but no surprise showed no her features until her eyes touched on the unconscious features of her dead sister's face.

"Ehh…Inuyasha, Kagome…Sango…and you are Kouga, the wolf prince, yes? How do you come to bring my sister here?"

She said nothing about Kohaku's presence, detecting strings of anger loose in the air and all of them poised like darting snakes over the boy's head. Sango's face was tight, the tightness that gathers the corners of the eyes when you try not to cry. There was a scream in the tight lines of her throat, an unsettled tic in her motions – as if a monster slept beneath her skin, and her skin knew, and distrusted the concealment.

"You are…the Lady Kaede? Then the Houshi spoke true. I did not believe that you could be _sister_ to m- to Kikyou. I found her. That boy – he had something that hurt her. She will not wake up!"

There was distress in his voice, actual distress, and Kaede looked at him oddly, trying to feel him out and finding him very…strange.

"Bring her here, then…and Kohaku too, Sango. It look like the four of you have some things to discuss. I will care for them."

Slowly, Sango gave up her burden, and then went to sit by the fire, her eyes straying back to the pallet, to Kaede's bent figure outlined in shadow against the light. Kagome followed and sat next to her, always quick with comfort, but Kouga did not intend to give the slayer woman a moment of rest. One who served Naraku, and they would aid the boy? He could not understand why.

"Woman, you must – "

But easily, Kagome spoke and her words slid over his and cut them off.

"It's no good, Kouga. It's very simple. He serves Naraku because of a cursed shikon shard, which both keeps him alive and puts him under the influence of evil. Kohaku is not evil, and so _I_ will not let you kill him."

With a wry twist of the eyebrows, Kouga rested his elbow on his knee and looked across the fire at Sango and her steady anger.

"The shard keeps him alive, and you are collecting the pieces. Someday, someone – you, or Naraku – must take it from him, and then he will die. If you kill him now, you will save many lives. You will achieve vengeance for all those he has already murdered."

Sango's face stayed the same, but they could all see something inside her collapse, folding inward like a piece of paper crushed in someone's hand. Finally, she looked up and met Kouga's eyes, and spoke for herself.

"That may be, but…he is my brother. He is the only family I have left."

Kagome reached forward, lay a hand on Sango's shoulder, but there was really no comfort for her. Kouga spoke of vengeance for the dead, without knowing that the worst of the dead had been family, and friends.

"If he awakens, and he attacks, I will kill him no matter what words you throw at me, woman. Not even you will stop me, Kagome - "

Kouga held out his right hand, which still bore the marks of acid-burning wounds, and flexed his fingers.

"This was caused by the blood of your _brother, _slayer-woman. Maybe once he was human, and someone you could love. What is he now?"

He fell silent, and withdrew his blistered hand, and turned to look at Kikyou, still unconscious, laying flat beside Kohaku while her sister tended them. It was only possible for him to truly believe all of the story now that he was here, looking at relationships like bright burning lines in the air. That old woman was his Kikyou's sister…and there was a strain between Kagome and Inuyasha now, a distance in her eyes, a tenseness in his face.

Kikyou and Kohaku lay, oblivious, unmoving, unconscious, in the light of the crescent moon that came through the open doorway. A breeze passed through the room, lifting the heat that pounded on them from the air and from the cooking-fire that burned in the center of the floor.

Stillness fell over them, and silence. In the distance a wolf howled at the taunting sliver of the moon, and Kouga let his head fall back, and the sound filled his ears, and he felt clean, awake, fulfilled. It was a deep, senseless feeling.

"Kouga, you come outside with me, now."

He did not feel danger in Inuyasha's words, only the hint of a threat, and with the echo of that single wolf-note in his ears fear could not touch him.

"Why not? Don't trip over the girls, Inuyasha. I think they're sleeping."

A growl rippled out of Inuyasha, lifted itself at him and then retreated. Kouga did not balk at the tone, stood and padded out under the stars. A billion galaxies wheeled overhead, bursting-eyed nebulae stringing a wide breath of incandescent beauty between the thousands of pinpoints, bathing the curve of the land with an aura of silver light.

Inuyasha followed him, but did not stop for the sky.

"You know I will not let you kill the boy."

Kouga only sighed.

"I thought you would say something like that. It is stupid to keep him alive, you know. Even now, Naraku could be back inside him, spying through his flesh. I put nothing past Naraku – nothing."

Inuyasha folded his arms, and twitched his ears impatiently.

"I know it is stupid. He should have been dead already, but he isn't, and Sango wishes him to stay alive. You do not help anything by hurting her."

Though surprised by the unexpected show of sensitivity from Inuyasha, Kouga did not let a change of expression touch his face.

"I will not touch him – if he does not attack again."

Inuyasha shook his head slowly, and the fingers of one hand tightened imperceptibly in the cloth of his haori.

"And tell me, Kouga, why it is that you care? Why is it that you care so much, when it is Kikyou he has come for?"

Suddenly the starlight was heavier than lead, and Kouga heard a ringing echo in his ears, the warning of the Houshi's voice, the numbness of Kagome. Deeper than that was the voice that laughed, and shouted for the challenge, and wanted the world to know that she was his woman.

"It doesn't matter who he comes for, he is a servant of Naraku. Destroying him will weaken Naraku - do we have any other aim?"

Inuyasha shook his head slowly, and the tightness of his fingers was spreading, infecting his entire flesh.

"I can see it when you look at her - when you were holding her. Do you think you can have Kikyou now, since you cannot have Kagome? Do you think she would have you?"

Now, Kouga felt only anger. So superior, so arrogant, and he was only a half-breed!

"Have me? She is mine, Inuyasha, not yours, never yours. I found her, and took her, and she is my willing woman, the thing Kagome would never be. She is more than Kagome, _other_, deeper, darker, and she is mine! Do you hear me, Inuyasha? Kikyou is mine!"

For a long moment, Inuyasha swayed on his feet, and his eyes grew wide, wider than coins. Between a snarl and laughter, he remembered a great flash of color, and light, and feeling, the love that had been for Kikyou - but it stood like a wilted flower stands against a fresh bouquet beside his feeling for Kagome.

"If you think that you can have her, and she will replace Kagome, you are wrong. They have the same face, but different hearts."

"I know."

"Still - if you hurt her, then I will hurt you. You had better keep that in mind, wolf."

That was all, and Inuyasha went back inside to Kagome, and Kouga followed him to sit by the side of Kikyou's pallet, and touch her hair, and her cheek, and reassure himself that she still breathed.

_She has no heartbeat, but…she breathes. Part of her remembers being alive, and cannot let go._

This pleased him. In his heart, there was a hope of restoring her, but he had never heard that such a thing was possible. He wished…she would wake up.

Neither Inuyasha nor Kouga noticed Kagome and Sango, both awake, laying perfectly still with their eyes open, exchanging an astonished glance. Was it possible - was it _true_? Kagome knew that it was, and Inuyasha's reaction settled the last of her nagging doubts.

_I should have known better_.

But it was strange, strange to think of - Kikyou, and Kouga.

* * *

Liquid drums soaked the bright and dancing night with sound and color. In the early hours of this celebration, there had been flutes, koto, lute – now, there were no fragments of sobriety large enough to produce such a coherent music. The air was reduced to a pounding, swirling thud, rich with the tones of skin and mallet.

Unsteady feet matched the ringing tones, some dancing, some tapping in time. An abandoned ululation rose over the drum music, seized it with delirious melody and rolled down with it to a dangerous bed. On the edge of the revelry, Miroku wallowed in the mating of sounds and wondered why human music had no such tones in it for moments of furious content.

The wind moved well for a night so deep into the summer heat, and he turned his thoughts skyward, wondering, watching, sensing. Six cups of sake had muddled his mastery of his own senses, and he was far from sure that _she_ was not really there, but did it matter? If she had wanted to kill him – or try – there was no need to wait for him to be among drunken youkai. Exactly what was being celebrated, he had not yet discovered. Perhaps it was only a celebration of hope.

Still, he kept his gaze turned skyward, his attention as tuned as it could be – and there was nothing. The stars were louder than the drums, the spaces between silent, the clouds smooth and thick in their passage.

"So, does this please you, Houshi?"

Surprised, but not startled, Miroku turned and bowed to his host. "The sky or the party?"

A quick, thin grin raced across Ryuk's face, and evaporated.

"Whichever you prefer to discuss."

"Both are good, but it's the celebration that interests me. Why tonight? Do you have a party like this for every guest?"

Laughter sounded near him, but he could not see Ryuk. The Cat was not behind him as he expected. To his left, there was a green flash, and he turned. As if he had been standing there all along, Ryuk gestured towards the gyrating collage of flesh and percussion behind them.

"You are the first chance that has come to us, Houshi. The tensions are greater than you could possibly imagine. I didn't hope - none of us hoped, that a holy man might come our way - and not kill us. You are very strange, Houshi - that is what our neko said, when they brought me word of you. So I came to look, instead of sending them back to kill you - I am glad."

Miroku was becoming lost among the words. They were dark and simple, but there was something ominous in them, an alarm that he could not hear, a warning that had passed before his eyes while he blinked. Intense of eye, Ryuk was watching Miroku's face, seeking a sign – of what, Miroku did not know.

"What about you, Houshi? Why is it that you will help me?"

_Ah. So the hunter does not trust his instincts, when one who should be prey leaps up and bares his throat for the slaughter…or so he thinks. _

The sake was making his thoughts both delirious and profound. Now that he thought of it - was it _sake_ he was drinking? What did demons drink?

"I have told you the truth, Ryuk. The _rot_ that you have spoken of, that is spreading from the north - it is Naraku, my sworn enemy. I came south looking for a mountain rumored to be the holiest place – a place where even Naraku can't go, where my curse might be removed."

"Curse? You are - cursed?! Show me, show me now!"

There was suddenly a flare of worry and anger in his host -as if he should have known, that no ordinary priest would minister to youkai. A cursed priest did not seem like a wise choice to make, but_ was_ there any other choice?

"This is not the place, Ryuk. It is dangerous – "

"It has already been dangerous! To bring a curse here, to my home! I should have known, I should have questioned -"

Menace was beginning to lurk in Ryuk's expression, there was darkness gathering in his claws and redness reaching into his eyes - more than enough to remind Miroku that it was youkai he dealt with.

Youkai courtesies were different than human courtesies, and the youkai penalty was death.

"Come with me, Ryuk. It is…not the kind of curse you think. I am not a danger to anyone but myself, unless I choose."

_At least not yet._

Miroku stepped out into the wild trees away from the den, a hundred steps. The lights of the fires and torches had faded to a flicker of yellowish glow between the leaves, and he stopped Ryuk from following him further with his bare hand.

From the wrapped hand, he unwound the sacred beads, and suddenly everything was wind. Like a concentrated gust from a thousand tornadoes, the air rushed screaming towards Miroku's open palm. Staring down the edge of the space where the angle of the wind faded, Ryuk saw a black vortex that pulled his gaze downward into a frictionless abyss. The leaves on the trees moved like streamers, and then flew free of their branches. In a moment's time, trees were leaning on their roots, and the earth beneath them was flying up in rich brown swirl that led infinitely into that darkness. Miroku closed his fingers over the binding silk, and wrapped the shining beads quickly over it again. He opened his palm, faced it towards Ryuk, and the wildcat Lord flinched. It was instinctive. Nothing happened. The lines of beads bound the black power back, but he could still sense it, a dark motivation seeking once more to leap free, and consume.

"You are a dangerous man, Houshi."

Miroku only laughed, a hollow sound.

"Where does this curse come from? Do you not appreciate its power?"

Miroku spoke quietly, and led Ryuk back towards the center of the dancing, a different path than the one they had taken into the trees.

"This is the curse of Naraku. It is a powerful weapon, but it is my greatest enemy. If I cannot get rid of it soon, it will devour me – as it devoured my father, and my grandfather. As it would devour my sons – if I had any."

He tilted his head back and looked up at the sky, took a deep breath.

"It was my task to make sure that there was a son, to carry forward the vengeance and the power, but perhaps it is best that I haven't had one. Why should another child inherit this endless curse, this endless quest?"

They were back amongst the dancers, and Miroku's last few words were almost lost amidst the stomping, pounding thud of feet. Shouting to be heard over the music, Ryuk shook Miroku's shoulder to hold his attention."Are you really leaving tomorrow, Houshi? Are you going so soon?"

"I'm done with waiting. Tomorrow- tomorrow, in the morning."

The early morning light was brighter than any of the waking eyes desired it, but there was no time to lay about and complain. Those who had over indulged during the riotous night paid their price. Others, with glances half-amused and half-scornful, took up the slack. A holy man had come to them, and been honored for the aid he offered, and who among them would stop to point out to their lord that it was a most unusual arrangement, indeed an arrangement without precedent? All the indications were that Ryuk knew better than any of the rest of them how strange it was – but there was no other choice, no other way at all.

Miroku wandered a few well-chosen hallways near the surface, awaiting a summons Ryuk had assured him would be 'Soon'. Impatience turned his thoughts, brought him to strange and unexpected things. Warriors passed him, their faces turned aside; hunters, different only in their weapons. He saw females, their eyes dark and bold, their movements shy, somehow compelling him to look. They slunk by him and around corners, and the gleam of their eyes was somehow always the last thing to go.

In his endless travels he had seen several noble women, outside the rustic provinces, women kept in curtained rooms by the old traditions. But even those women, with their Chinese sleeves and sweeping hair, with their fans and whisper-soft voices, did not present such an evasive façade as these neko.

Despite himself, he was intrigued. When his eyes were not so thoroughly occupied, he berated himself, but a lingering image persisted. There was something in these youkai women that he made him _want_ – a darkness, a compelling sense of the mysterious. With a hand over his eyes, he brought himself to the thought of Sango, the smoothness of her features, the soft curves, her strength.

The image was dark as he tried to recall it, but then he could see her as she had been when he left her. White bandages against her creamy skin, a strong scent of medicinal herbs, and she had not seemed very strong at all. A tight frown had lingered at the corner of her mouth, as though she had no patience for her own healing.

_And I do not know if she is recovered, or ailing…even if she lives or has left this world. _

He could not think 'dead' to himself. How much better it would have been – to be not a holy man, or a cursed man, but just a man! Suddenly the neko-females had no more allure.

"Houshi, it is time."

Surprised, Miroku looked up at Ryuk's voice.

"Time?"

"It is all ready."

He was led to the den entrance, where a small pile of supplies had been stacked, with the young Hiro waiting beside them.

"You remember me, Houshi-sama?"

Having been reprimanded, the kit seemed to have adopted a manner of extreme respect.

"I remember you, Hiro. I will bring your mother back safe, if I can."

"If she was safe, she would have come back already!"

Miroku could only offer an attempt at a smile.

"Nevertheless, I shall do what I can to find her."

A few others had come out to see him off; the curious, the gossips, the concerned. When the pack was strapped to his back, and he had arranged various items in pockets and taken up his staff, Ryuk came up beside him, and spoke lowly.

"My offer stands, Houshi. Are you sure you do not desire company?" Just as low, Miroku replied.

"Stay, guard your den, protect your nephew. Do not venture north, and if other youkai come near to you, bringing news, save it for me. I will return this way."

He stepped out into the jungle, and did not look back. After a moment only Ryuk was left watching him, a curious glitter at the edges of his eyes.

Even as he passed into the darkness of clutching greenery, Miroku felt the watchfulness and it tingled on his skin.

_He is not as trusting as I thought. So – what is it that makes him so wary?_

He did not stop walking, but his thoughts moved widely across several points that stood out at him suddenly, like glaring lights.

_Kagura was sent by Naraku to approach Ryuk – but why? For what plot, what purpose, would he require a tribe of neko youkai? The scent of Kagura disturbed them, and they sent her on her way, did not stop to listen to her…is it that her scent lingers on me?_

Miroku smiled grimly into the leaves. If that were indeed the case, then he might be in some trouble. If they tried to follow him, and seek out what it was that connected him to that scent, it would not be difficult. Eventually, Kagura would come to him, on some breeze when he was not expecting her.

Deep in thought, he paced a few weary miles through the jungle, and then felt a thinning of the branches near his face. He did not have to push so many creepers aside; vines did not grasp so often at his feet, or entangle his staff.

There came a cool wind, the air less steady and stagnant. Enlivened by his thoughts, he probed gently with his own aura, seeking Kagura. The flicker of presence that was her did not feel close, but there was awareness at the tip of his reach.

_I will follow this _presence_. Perhaps this time _I_ will surprise _her_._

_

* * *

_A/N: Ahh, chapter 13! I feel caught up now, so I shall proceed to run off and read the random manga I keep missing out on because I get overly obsessed with waiting for new xxxHolic chapters...

Please Review! (extra please?!)


	14. Chapter 14

XIV.

Wheel of Fire

* * *

*_I am dreaming. What is it…that makes up my dreams? Is this…to be dead?*_

In a nowhere that had been darkness, there was suddenly an eruption from silence into light. Brightness, like the blazing sun of a midsummer day, swelling down onto her eyelids and bringing out a cry from her throat. The cry was the loud, high cry of an infant ripped into the world; stunned, womb-bound thoughts reeling from the impossible, Kikyou felt her own tiny lungs draw breath and wail, again and again, angry at the cold, hard air of this new world.

_*How can this be? What is this?* _

Her vision darkened, and she felt a pale, pink tug at the ghost of her soul.

_*Of course. It is the girl, who gives me life with her own life. I wonder why this is a memory. Birth is not a memory for infants, it is a memory for mothers.*_

She knew intensely and without asking herself questions that this memory did not belong to her, that it belonged to Kagome. The blank, directionless strength of this girls' soul – something that had once been _her_ soul_ – _was frightening. She felt experiences pouring onto her, soothing her with strangeness, with dreams that she never could have dared to have.

A girl, four or five years old, in pink shoes, singing. There were many shining faces, staring up from behind a bright light, and the face of one that was picked out with especial care. _Mother_.

_*I was not allowed…mother.*_

With that thought, there was a flood of memories, thick like an embrace, a sad, solid tenderness. She knew _mother_, and it hurt all the way down, into the soft secret core of what remained of the real Kikyou, deep in the dark.

Her own childhood had been so different! From that very first day, when she had found the demon rat. Such a careful trap she had laid, thinking it only another rice stealer, taking those precious grains which were to be protected. And how shocked her father had been, coming down into the storage bins to see his four year old daughter on the verge of purifying her first demon.

Everything had moved quickly after that, with no doubts.

"A miko, how wonderful! She will be trained to protect the people, to slay demons and protect what is sacred."

The priests had not left her alone, had not allowed her parents much time with their daughter, and had soon begun teaching her the laws that govern the sacred precincts. When she was nine, Kaede was born ,and the priest who had begun Kikyou's training was overjoyed

"Another miko! How fortunate! Your family is greatly honored; you must be sure to pay your respects at the appropriate shrines."

That was what he said, while the bows were still twanging and the incense still burning in the birthing room. Her mother had wept. Her father accepted it with a stoic face – but really, it had been too cruel. The priest had not even allowed them a moment to believe that this new daughter could be theirs.

A miko was bound forever to her duty. She felt the darkness again, the overwhelming pressure, and tried to turn away the eyes of her mind, to no avail. From her own familiar memories she was ripped away, but something strange and important was in the memories of this girl. They stirred up the life Kikyou had almost forgotten with improbable thoughts.

_*"What are you going to name him, mama? Jii-san says you should name him after a famous hero, for good fortune."_

_ The mother was laughing, but the girl stayed serious._

"_Good fortune is important, mama! If you give him an ill-favored name, it will be bad for him. Maybe you should find a diviner!"*_

An outsider to this strange conversation, Kikyou was astonished. That serious little girl, turning into this laughing woman? Did it come…from the mother?

After Kaede became another 'fighter for the cause', so to speak, her mother never really became well again. Six months later, a year later, she could not still be suffering from the birth, but still she could not summon the energy to remain out of bed for very long, or even to nurse the baby Kaede.

At eight months, Kaede was nearly weaned – and it was Kikyou who prepared the soft baby foods, and made sure that her sister had what she needed to live. She was not a fussy baby, and Kikyou lavished attention on her. In the autumn that marked Kaede's second year, late in the falling of the leaves, her mother died, and quickly the house became silent and cold.

_*"But mama, if you will not give him the name of a hero, what name will you give him?"_

_ That laughter again, gentle and warming. _

"_I think I will name him Souta. That is the name of your father's father, you know."_

_ There was a nod, and a happy smile, a sense that bliss had engulfed and the world had dropped away the curtains on paradise.* _

"And it can be like that?"

In her own thoughts, the words of Kikyou's metal voice echoed loudly through the blurring scene as it left her, shifting, transforming. The lucidity of these dreams, these visions, faded with her attention and yet might strangle her.

_*"I'm sorry, Kagome. Your father…is not coming back. I'm sorry."_

_ The mother's face crumpled in tears, holding the soft bundle of her son to her breast, watching for reactions in her daughter only through her own haze of grief._

"'_Tou-san is not coming back? Mama, mama what is wrong? Why won't he come back?"_

_ At the question, though Kikyou could already tell the answer, the mother could only shake her head. The words were slow in coming, thick with sobs. _

"_There was an accident and – he can't come home – the doctors – the doctors said there was not much pain – he – your father – he died, Kagome – Kagome –"_

_ There were tears everywhere now, the girl, her mother, the infant. Behind the mothers tears was only grief, the immeasurable darkness, but behind the tears of the girl was a grim, solid determination that was hard to see. It said 'if there is to be any more laughter, I must make it' and 'I do not wish to live in a house of tears'. The girl herself had not even known what her own heart had decided..*_

Tears leaked down Kikyou's unconscious cheeks, made wet lines down into her hair and along the curve of her ear. Kouga, watching, always watching, started forward and touched that wetness. He moved closer and shook her shoulders gently. Her body moved, but her eyes did not even flutter; her breathing did not change. The silent tears were more disturbing that her complete unconsciousness. Moved, Kouga wiped them away as they fell, and wondered at them without a hope of understanding.

* * *

The touch of Miroku's searching energy was like the caress of a single finger, right in the center of her back. Quietly startled from her own, searching thoughts, Kagura sat up straight and stared through the blue summer haze behind her.

_*What is you want with me, Houshi? Were my directions unclear? Straight south, to the water's edge.* _

Thinly, she smiled. If he traveled with companions, he would not dare search her out. So, he must be alone. How sweet. She turned, and moved in the direction of that prodding touch. It had come from further than she expected – had she really drifted so far?

She raised her head, peering forward over the edge of her feather. The trees ruffled on a far shore, responding to the dark breeze of her impending passage. Beneath her, the waves were equally ruffled, ragged white lines of curling foam across the jade surface of the water, deep and green and clear.

Around her, the currents of world-wind were strong and soothing. The fresh breath of new airs was enlivening, and she closed her eyes, holding on to it for a long moment. If her heart could be rescued from Naraku, what would ever keep her grounded again? She sped inland, over a broad sea of leaves, suddenly greener than the watchful sea. Stirred by her passage, the rustling multiplied into a cool and endless sound of trees.

Only a day away on foot, the speed she made now would bring her close to the Houshi in mere hours. She allowed trivial thoughts to occupy her, wanderings of the mind that she did not usually allow herself.

_*This Miroku, why is he different? His companions too are strange, but each of them holds by their very blood a distinction. Even the slayer woman cannot be taken lightly. She and her family were the guardians of the shikon no tama…they were the ones upon whom Naraku first chose to demonstrate his power…while he hid in the shape of a man!*_

Naraku remained male, but not man. In his desire for Kikyou he had proved his maleness, but whatever humanity remained in him served only as a deep and buried core of hate and base desires.

_*Humans are eminently corruptible. Naraku by his very existence proves this, and that I remain in bondage to such a one! Unacceptable! How is it that one man could become Naraku, and another become this Houshi, seeking after him with death?* _

She was forced to admit that she could understand what she knew of Naraku's motivation, as detestable as it was, but of the Houshi – what was there? Kagura found herself assaulted by the memory of his angled smile, the double quickness with which his eyes had drifted over her exposed skin and then gone to work on smooth purple stitches. But the memory was also in her of a far earlier day, and the accusatory voice of the Houshi following her, the finger she turned to see pointing at the stigma she could never hide.

The scar. The spider. Formed from Naraku's own amalgamated flesh, she too bore the mark that would not hide, the sign that spoke of his previous life. _Onigumo_. The demon spider. There had been revulsion on the Houshi's face, behind that damning finger. Now there was pity. Between the two, what had changed?

Again the sliver of her thoughts penetrated, remembered the sliding of his eyes.

_*Does he simply desire me? Does he think…I am for desiring?*_

Again, she saw that disgusted face, the recognition, the awakening hatred.

_*I am become such a fool, such a fool. What wasted thoughts these are!*_

The sun was just reaching its peak, seeding the sky with colors more bright and burning than flame. Between outthrust leaves and preening branches, Miroku stared up into a sky more blue than the purest azure silk. A new wind had begun to streak in through the branches over his head, and a smile of amused disappointment flickered on his face. He was becoming accustomed to the signs of Kagura's approach; he had so wanted to surprise her.

He was led to strange places by his thoughts. He did not know who Kagura was. Made of Naraku, but not Naraku herself – she had proven this by the manifestation of her will, her power, her beauty, all so much the opposite of his enemy.

The refreshed wind fluttered the leaves like pennants. Green shadows moved across his face. He passed a hand across his eyes and sighed. Softer than air, she landed, and waved her fan before her knees. Miroku stood, and nodded.

"Kagura. Once more, I must thank you for the breeze. Why have you come?"

She took quick steps, until she stood near enough that she could touch him. Her fingers skipped along the beads that bound his hand.

"You should not be asking that question, Miroku. Was it not you who reached out for me?"

He was smiling, but she could not see his face. His head remained tilted down, shadows hiding his eyes.

"Reached out, you say? It is you who are reaching out – and you touch."

Something in his voice burned her. Her fingers withdrew; she took a step back and looked at him with fierce eyes.

"You are different, Miroku-Houshi. Different from other humans, from demons. What is it that makes you so? Is it because you are cursed?"

He shrugged and leaned toward her. He was suddenly speaking so close to her she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"You are _different_, Kagura."

Now, she was angry.

"You! Tell me, what does it mean when you say something like that!"

They were exchanging the same breath. It might have been the anger that enriched her voice with passions, and made him remember her laugh.

"It means nothing, beyond what it says. You tell me what it says, Kagura."

Kagura took another step back, and concealed her face behind the half open folds of her fan. The wind whipped the creeping jungle foliage into a froth of shimmering colors under the high sun.

"It says that you think strange thoughts, Miroku, that you observe well and carve a hiding place for that observation. You are full of…distressing emotions."

The moment the last words passed her lips, she regretted them. They reflected on her own personal thoughts, but those were not for this Houshi to know! He smiled, looking at her now so she could _see_ it, a lightning-bright smile. He took back the step between them.

"You must tell me of these distressing emotions sometime, Kagura. I am interested in knowing what it is that makes _you_ so different."

She shook her head, denying anything, denying everything.

"I am an offshoot of Naraku's flesh. You know this! Do not…taunt me."

Very slowly, Miroku crossed his arms and turned away, so he was looking at her only in profile, out of the corner of his eye.

"I would never taunt you, Kagura. Did you know that Naraku was once a man?"

Unsure of where this new turn of conversation would go, she nodded.

"The man Onigumo, a bandit and thief, allowed demons to devour his soul in return for granting him the powers of their flesh. So he is many demons, and none of them. Since that time, he has traveled widely, and consumed many creatures, demon and not demon, seeking new power. So, what were you, Kagura, before he consumed that being and twisted it to his own uses? Do you have no memory at all?"

She shook, unwilling to believe and at the same time believing. She had seen other…offspring of Naraku become incarnate, and from none of them did he take a heart. She did not even know if they had hearts – Naraku required no such control over them. The Houshi was right. Why was she…different?

"I cannot tell you what you are seeking to know. That knowledge – it is not a part of me. Now, quickly, tell me what it is you wanted of me when you drew me here."

He shook his head, attempted an innocence that usually came easily but now was lost to him.

"I only sought to find out if you were still near. I did not mean to draw you here – I know I must continue south."

A new rush of wind blew Miroku's hair into a fluff of dark strands.

"Move quickly, and by nightfall tomorrow you will come to a village. It is human – the neko do not bother them, but other demons enjoy the flavor of human flesh too much to ignore such an unprotected outpost. You may learn something to your advantage if you go there – but now that you have learned of humans in trouble, you would go there now whether there was information or not, wouldn't you?"

He nodded carefully, and was surprised by her gentle laughter.

"That is another thing, Miroku-Houshi, which I do not understand."

With a careless gesture, she flipped a feather from the hair at her temple ,and tossed it at the ground. In a way that Miroku could not see, it turned, and twisted, and became suddenly much larger. With an elegant grace that seemed improbable with such a flimsy transport, she climbed in and knelt at the center.

She noticed the intentness of his gaze, the focus of his attention, and leaned across to speak to him, teasing from a safe distance as the feather rose gently into the sky.

"You still cannot come up with me, Miroku. If I landed you in a village of humans, they would worship you or kill you, but you certainly would not be able to help them!"

She spun on the wind, and soon faded into the south, beyond a thick, dark line of horizon. Wind was left behind her, and Miroku smiling, shaking his head.

"South it is, then, Kagura."

* * *

"What is it you desire to see?"

The sky held leisurely clouds. Beneath them, a pustule of dark chambers and many doors occupied the space where there had been a tasteful mansion, the manor of some murdered lord

"Show me the woman who thwarts my will – the sister of the boy."

Reflected palely in an oval of mirror more like water than glass, Sango's features were indistinct, her motions blurred. A haze obscured her in this reflection, as though she maintained such a fierce attention that even from this power she was obscured.

"Tell me why she is not clear to me, Kanna."

"She resists with her whole self. The mirror cannot capture her."

Scowling, Naraku stood and clapped his hands once, tightly. There was a sound that could be nothing but a great rush of silk, and a soft shadow appeared beyond the curtained door.

"You summoned me, lord?"

"You are to go out into the land, and find this woman."

For a moment, the door slid open a few bare inches. The blurred features of the mirror turned towards the opened space, and then away again. The door slid shut.

"Does she travel alone, or with company?"

A dark smile that gave no hint of defeat darted onto Naraku's features like poison, and then slid away.

"She travels with company, but the one who concerns you is this woman. For the others, I may find…suitable distractions.

There was once more a great rustling of silk, and a single footstep that lingered on the polite edge of inaudible.

"I will return when she is dead. You have no preference as to the means of her ending? Many men, seeking the death of a woman, have diverse reasons for doing so…"

Satisfied even as she was speaking that the illusion he maintained was as perfect as before, he did not allow her to continue.

"It is enough that she dies. The reasons are nothing that concern you. Return successful, and you will see reward enough to make it worthwhile."

He did not receive an answer; he had not expected one. There was no longer a shadow behind the door-curtains; this time, there had been no rustling of silk.

_*What will you do, demon slayer, against one trained in arts more subtle than yours?*_

* * *

The world was becoming dark as the edge of twilight brushed over it, and Kohaku finally groaned and rolled over. In a moment, Sango was by his side, one hand on his forehead, her eyes peering deeply into his fluttering pupils.

"Kohaku? Kohaku, are you awake now?"

Behind the flutter of those eyelids, something painful was happening, a dark flicker of dark events. Within a moment of bolting, he sat up quickly and had one foot on the floor before Sango realized what he was doing. Her arms, and then her whole body went out to restrain him.

_*Why is it always like this! He can never bear…to stay with me.* _

"Kohaku! I won't let you go this time. You're my brother…you're the only one I have left now."

His eyes were hooded. Darkness had been planted in him deeper than the strength of Sesshomaru's claws could reach. Always, behind the darkness there was a glaring light of memories he did not want, memories for which his flesh was responsible while his heart wept, weary.

There had been few moments of clarity, moments he had stolen from Naraku. Some of them he had paid for. For others, he had not yet been punished – or perhaps they had passed undetected. He had strange allies in his confinement. Kagura kept his secrets, and her silence.

Sometimes, there was a strong presence inside him, a remembrance of days when there had not been such trouble, when the only worries on his mind spoke to his quieter self. He had never been sure that a life in combat was what he wanted, but he was the son of a demon slayer.

Now, he knew he would never have another kind of life. He would fight, until he died…and he would probably die sooner than he thought, or hoped.

With inner sight, he could see the light that had been snuffed out and would not return. In the center of that empty place, there was the smile of a man whose face was a thousand knives of guilt, and the echo of words that he could not quite catch.

"Kohaku?"

This woman, this woman who was his sister was too worried and did not deserve such pains. Slowly, he relaxed his fleeing muscles, and eased himself back from Sango's restraining embrace.

"I won't run away, but it's no good for you to try and keep me here. _He_ will find a way to take me back. You know that."

Enfolding him, gentle, she shook her head and yet was betrayed by her own words. Now, while she had him here with her to look after, nothing else mattered.

"I…know. But this time you are staying, Kohaku, or I am leaving with you."

Her devotion was terrifying. It locked a swallow in his throat. How could she not hate him, knowing the awful things he had done?

* * *

A/N: And, stubbornly, I continue onward! _I_ like this story, even if no one else does, dammit! Oh well! Please Review!


	15. Chapter 15

XV

The Limits Of Nature

* * *

In the morning, Kaede pronounced Kohaku well enough to go outside, but in her sister there was still no change, no movement. She watched the wolf-youkai that did not move out of the corners of her eyes; after a while, Kaede brought Kouga tea and breakfast, but the tea gradually stopped steaming, and the food grew cold, and still he did not move. Kaede was not sure she had even seen him blink.

No one had missed the outburst between Kouga and Inuyasha the night before; no one spoke of it, but the knowledge it had brought them hung in the air. She could barely bring herself to believe it, and yet...the youkai sat beside her sister, and did not move.

Inuyasha had disappeared with Kagome in the early hours, just after dawn, and then had returned alone.

"Kagome?"

Sango questioned him idly, out of courtesy. If he was alone, and she was alone, Kagome could only be one place.

"Home. She wanted to see her mother, to tell her - about us."

His eyes wandered to the corner, saw Kouga still sitting there in the same place, not moving, and stood up again, wandered outside.

"Sango, will you come with me? I wanted to ask you something."

She raised an eyebrow at him, but followed complacently. Her eyes tracked Kohaku as soon as she stepped outside; he and Shippou were drawing in the dirt, exchanging stories. She heard a few words of Shippou's, and recognized the events in his tale - she had been told of the day Kagome and Inuyasha had found him, but never in Shippou's own words.

"Sango?"

"Huh? Oh - I'm coming, Inuyasha."

He frowned a little, and then realigned his face. That inner voice, the Inu-voice, was louder again, and it spoke of death more freely and fiercely when Kagome was not with him. It was stronger, much stronger, when she was on the other side of the well.

_Sango keeps watching Kohaku, though - all the time. As if she's afraid he might disappear._

And the Inu, darker, licking its lips:

_Should disappear, should help that wolf - smell of an enemy! Kill the boy, kill him now...while its easy! Before..._

Inuyasha shook the voice away, reached up and rubbed his ears even though he knew they were not the source of his problem. Sango was walking behind him, and she could not see those thoughts on his face; Sango, who was the reason that dangerous child still lived.

_Not his fault though, that he's been made into a...a monster. He did not ask for all those things to happen to him._

The days when it had been easy to say that, easy to believe that the words had meaning, were growing dimmer and dimmer, falling further and further behind. Their quest was starting to seem desperate...or impossible.

_We hunt and search and scour and walk the whole land, and finally, one of the rumors is true. We find Naraku, and we attack him - and then, just like that, he disappears! And then we begin again - four years, almost five now, and we aren't any closer to our goal. _

He had been thinking, since the night he took Kagome - before that, since the moment he had watched Sango fall, and fall, and not get up. It had been the first time in so long that any of them besides him had been close to death - it had reminded him, abruptly, of their mortality.

_All of us - and now, Sesshomaru comes, telling me that - _

He stopped his thoughts, shook his head.

"Inuyasha?" His eyes slid sideways. They were at the top of the hill overlooking the village's rice fields now, and looked back down at the village.

_Far enough_.

"Sango, what do you know about the Youkai Army?"

She looked at him with a startled expression.

"A little. My father used to tell me stories, terrible stories - why?"

His eyes wandered into the south.

"It is coming this way."

"Coming - coming - _here_?"

There was a twitch, a palsy of fear in Sango's voice. It surprised him, disturbed him. It took a lot to awaken fear in Sango.

"Yes. Sesshomaru says so. He says - they want me to lead them."

In the face of those words, Sango could not feel anything at all.

"What - are you going to do? Did you -"

"I don't know. I don't know anything about it, Sango, not anything."

"Well...you should ask him, then.""Ask - Sesshomaru!"

Disbelieving, he turned to look her square in the face, but she only shrugged.

"What do you want _me_ to say, Inuyasha? I can tell you what I know, if you want. My father said that in his father's day, there was a youkai army - and in the days of his father before him, and his father before that. They moved over land and through the sea and the air; beasts, youkai, mononoke, demons of forest and ocean and sky. They were uncountable, a dark wave to blot out even the promise of summer, and they came and went at the word of the Inu-no-Taisho, greatest of them all."

Inuyasha's eyes widened.

"The - my - my otou-san? Then why do they want me, and not Sesshomaru? He's the elder brother, full demon - why don't they bother him, instead?" Sango looked at him curiously.

"You don't want the army, you don't want to lead them? I don't think I like the thought of your brother in control of all that power, Inuyasha. I don't - like him. I wouldn't think you would want that either."

She felt a little guilty saying it - after all, Sesshomaru had saved Kohaku - but he had not done it for _her_.

_For Rin, whoever that is. The little girl, maybe? I've never seen anyone else with him. But it's more than that, more than him trying to kill Inuyasha, more than that he wants tetsusaiga; he's - he says I'm dying! Like I'm already dead..._

More than that, it was the feeling she experienced when he said it that bothered her; heat, darkness - and then cold.

"You're probably right about that, Sango - but I don't know what to do with an army. I don't know how to lead them, I don't even know who they are. Sesshomaru said I killed so many, now I had to be the leader of them all."

"And he's coming back?""In three days - two, now."

Again, she shrugged, and then turned away and started walking back towards the village.

"So what are you going to do, Inuyasha?"

* * *

Very suddenly, without any transition at all, Kikyou took a deeper breath and knew that she was awake, now - not sleeping, the dreams, or visions, whatever they were, dissipated. Kouga was still beside her, looking out the window at the trees and the sunlight and hoping. Her eyes opened, wide, startled, a liquid brown that he had not seen in her before, and she stared at him for all the world as if she did not know him.

"Are you afraid, Kikyou? Do you not remember me?"

Very slowly, her lips parted.

"Kouga – yes, I remember you. But you – I do no think you can help me. I cannot…"

Her eyes closed; her breaths were faster now, and heavy. He could feel her body moving with the strength of it. What was it he could do to help her? It was souls she needed, souls that were not just to be found for him to pluck out of the floating air. As though sensing his thoughts, her eyes flickered, sought focus on his own darting pupils.

"If you want me, Kouga, you will have to save me. Do not think to search for the soul of a maiden. The maiden within me rejects them and the evil of that way. I should have done that...a long time ago."

She paused for a long time. He measured her breathing with his eyes, and came close to shaking her again, his fingers tight on her shoulders.

"All souls are supposed to want rest, but the life inside me - it begs for more life. What will you give, wolf, for the _wanting_ of me?"

"Kikyou-"

He was willing – quite willing, if he understood her asking, but how did she expect him to provide? Was it not only Kagome, by virtue of that deeper bond between them, who could help Kikyou now?

"But Kagome - I thought that she -"

"No, Wolf. Not any more, not if she is going to keep her own life. Already, the soul that we share is almost equally divided between us; she keeps by only a little portion the larger share."

He was momentarily stricken, but then again...

_After all, something I never needed before, never noticed, I doubt I'll miss. If I even have one - a soul._

He bent forward, and brushed her lips with the gentlest kiss he had given her. Her tongue touched him, beat upon the electricity in his blood, and - he felt _something_ rising in him, breaking itself apart and lifting itself towards her. Something invisible, something dark and secret, was coming awake.

He had felt such a tug before, like an amplified touch of that black, glittering object - before Naraku's power had focused on Kikyou.

_So, I _do _have a soul. Interesting._

It rose in him, a thick and liquid _redness _now, and he felt the passage of his strength, the firmness of his interior wellspring, furnishing the spirit that lagged inside her. New, strong roots twined around the tree that Kagome had planted, uplifting.

Where the thickness dissipated, Kouga felt black emptiness reaching out toward him, an edge of soul beyond which there lurked far darker dreams than he desired.

_Is she...killing me?_

But just as that thought came to him, just as he felt himself putting one foot on the slippery edge, she dropped back away from him, down onto the bed, and as she did so the darkness receded; he stepped away from that high, dark ledge. His heart was pounding; he felt lightheaded, as if there were too little blood in his body, and deep breaths did not help the swell of dizziness.

Kouga saw her blinking, slowly, steadily, and there was _life_ in those brown eyes; her shoulders, under his hands, were warm, like she felt after he loved her. He smiled, like a drunken man, and toppled over onto her lap.

"Wolf, you gave me too much - too much of yourself, but I cannot give it back, now. You will have to sleep, now - sleep..."

Kikyou could not do much more than murmur the words, very low, but Kouga heard them as he was passing into unconsciousness; they formed the beginnings of his dreams, that spread and flowered across the distant past and the future that was soon to be. Beside him, Kikyou lay still, just breathing, utterly confused. The words had come out of her so easily when she had woken; as if they had always been there, as if this Wolf had always been there - both of them, just waiting for her to ask.

_But that is impossible._

What was happening to her? What was this place, this world she lived in?

_I don't think...I ever knew it at all._

She turned her head just a little, and looked at leaves in the sunlight through the blowing curtain, smelled the summer heat on the breeze. She felt, just the tiniest bit, as if life might be worth trying again, and with it came a sudden, exuberant warmth towards the Wolf; Kouga, who had given her this gift...and the girl.

_I was wrong to wish her ill, to be - jealous. I have had what she has, if I had not been - if I had not been such a fool._

"Kouga, I was a fool. Did you know that, Kouga?"

His ears twitched; she lay one hand on his head and smiled, amused to think that her words might become part of his dreams. And what did he think about her - what did he want from her - _really_?

* * *

It was Kaede who was first to come inside, and find them.

"So, he is finally sleeping and you are awake, Kikyou."

"Yes. Thank for your care."

There was a stiff silence between them; Kikyou remembered only too well the last time she had been in this room, the words that had passed between them.

_That was wrong too, and I knew it then. I could have been helping, all this time, I should have been helping!_

But she took a long slow breath as she thought this thought, because the feeling that was welling up in her, the passionate anger at the thought, _duty_, was a hot, sick feeling. She had given up her whole life - her _whole life_ - to duty; but once was not enough? Or was there something else, something that could make it worthwhile, taking on that burden again.

Her eyes jerked, without will behind them - to her hand, on Kouga's cheek - to her sister, standing uncomfortable, awkward and silent in her own house. To the window, and the green glow of light.

"Kaede - little sister, tell me about your life, since we were parted. All those years, when you were alone; tell me about them."

Kaede took an involuntary step forward, and then controlled herself.

"You - want me to tell you -"

"We have to start over, Kaede. Isn't that the best way for me to know you now? The last time...the last time I saw you, you were still a little girl."

Kaede took another step, and then stopped. A little girl? Yes; there had been days like that, days she could barely remember now, and days that were clearer sometimes than yesterday.

"Those stories are better saved for some time when we are alone...nee-san."

Kikyou's eyes drifted back down to Kouga, but she smiled.

"That's all right, as long as you promise you'll share.""Yes. But...you've changed, Kikyou. And what - Inuyasha and this...Kouga say, it is true?"

Kikyou flushed; Kaede's, eyes went wide with surprise. Was that even possible?

"It - it is true. At first, I was distraught, but - "

She swallowed and turned her face out of Kaede's view. Delicately, Kaede dropped the subject and walked over to the hearth, stirred up the fire.

"You have come to us in the mist of trouble, nee-san. One of us is missing, our Houshi Miroku. He appears to have gone off on a rather foolhardy mission alone, but he is beyond finding now."

"Even for Inuyasha?"

"Inuyasha would not leave Kagome behind until she begged him to go - for Sango's sake, you see. It was too late then. Sango was another worry, but she seems better now."

"Better?"

"She was burned by a youkai in the shape of a dragon with great lightning power; it came with a storm, they said, and the rain came first. Inuyasha and Kagome killed it, but Sango was wounded as she showed them where to aim."

"Ahh...I see. The woman on the fire-cat. But better now, you say. That is good. Kaede, I do not want to be rude, but I think I must sleep again."

"Don't worry, don't worry; you think I have not learned how to be quiet by now?"

The old woman was smiling, but Kikyou was already asleep.

* * *

Miroku continued to travel south, and the green jungle-tangle was interspersed with slim forests of tall bamboo. The farther south he went, the wider the patches became; they were easier to walk through than the mats of leaves and vines, and the breeze moved more freely through the open spaces - but it was difficult to keep track of his direction when he could not see the sun. Among the bamboos one direction seemed as good as another, and there were no landmarks; everything looked the same. For two days he wandered in circles, while hard, sharp rain beat down on him from heavy skies; the third morning, he tracked his path carefully and began to make his way south again, wringing out his wet robes as he walked.

The showers fell regularly, and he could taste the beginning of the wet season in them, as they passed into the hottest days of summer, and through them, and out the other side. His third night among the bamboos, he stopped in a sheltered grove among new shoots, not yet as tall as their older siblings, and tried vainly to light a fire in the wet brush.

_I should have brought some of Kagome's fire lighters with me, the little red-tipped sticks. They work in the rain, but this..._

He eyed his wet tinder and shook his head despairingly.

_Another wet night. I wonder what the others are doing right now? I bet Kagome and Inuyasha -_

He grinned a wide, lecherous grin, and snickered to himself. It had taken them long enough - was it five years now, since he had joined with them?

_I'm surprised I'm still alive. I owe them that, I suppose. And since we found Sango -_

Miroku cut off his own thoughts and leaned back a little father into the shadow of the wide, flat leaf that was guarding him from the rain. It was dangerous to think about Sango, especially in the here-and-now. He kept seeing her in his thoughts as she had been when he left her; the fever-flush in her skin, the bandages with their dark stains, her occasional shifts and moans of pain.

_She has not been hurt like that since Naraku made her play games with Inuyasha. Its been...how many days? Would she be better by now?_

There was no way she would find him, and he was grateful for that, but he felt a momentary tickle of weakness in his own desire that she_ might_ - after all, Inuyasha could move much faster than he himself could, and...

_No. It is wrong to want it, anyway. The chances are I will never see any of them again. At least Kouga will have delivered my message by now. If she is awake, if - if she is alive, she will get it. _

He rolled himself into a tight cocoon of robes, and closed his eyes. Despite the rain, he was tired from the long walk, and the loneliness. It did not take him long to fall asleep. The sounds of the rain, the endless drip from sky to leaf to forest-floor, infiltrated his dreams and became the sound of storm, the rain driven onward by invisible winds.

When he woke in the morning, the sky was finally clear, bright with yellow sun, and he picked himself up and rubbed his fingers through his hair so that it stuck up in all directions.

"Well, south again, I guess. But I thought Kagura said there was a village around here somewhere?"

He was talking to himself again, but it no longer seemed as strange. That in itself said something, and he shook his head at his own eccentricity.

"Be talking to the trees, next."

Miroku yawned and rubbed his eyes, then turned to pick up his bag and robe, hanging off a nearby tree in the vain hope that they might dry a little. There was a faint trickle at the bottom of the low hill he had chosen to sleep on, and he walked down to the bottom and drank his fill before he continued on, munching a ball of rice.

_Not too much rice left, and I could use some dried meat, maybe some greens....where is that village? _

He was in the shallow valley between the hills, and the growth was thinner there.

_Encouraging, I suppose. Those mountains in the distance...I wonder how close they are? _

Carefully, irritated at thorny patches that were invisible until he was in them, Miroku climbed his way up the side of the hill at the opposite side of the valley and reached the top relatively quickly. He picked a few thorns out of one arm and turned slowly, looking out over the landscape that was revealed to him by the height; almost immediately he was blinded by a gust of wind that tossed ashes in his eyes and set him coughing.

_A fire! What -_

The wind passed, its direction shifted, and he could finally see around him. At the base of the hill and slightly west of it, a column of smoke was rising from among thatched roofs, licked with flame. He was too far away to see much else, and he held his sleeve across his face as the wind turned back in his direction. It was a smell he knew; he had encountered it before.

"That village!..."

Without a second thought, he ran down the hillside toward the village, trying to judge the distance, how long it would take him to get there. His feet sped across the uneven ground; he held his staff tightly in his right hand and did not notice his fingers, their compulsive squeeze. When he judged that he had crossed almost three-quarters of the distance from where he had started, he began to hear noises, screams - and there was a dark tingle on his _other_ senses, the burn of youki.

_Youkai! What was it Kagura said?"_

The memory of her words came to him in a black rush; he felt a shiver flee down his spine.

"_...the neko do not bother them, but other demons enjoy the flavor of human flesh too much..."_

_

* * *

_A/N: And I persist, because dammit _I _like this story, so I might as well post it. Please Review, though. I would be greatly encouraged to know my efforts were not in vain, nor solely for some grim sense of personal satisfaction...


	16. Chapter 16

XVI.

Wind and Fire

* * *

Miroku crossed the last hundred yards in front of the burning village carefully; ash was whipping around in the air, and the heat was intense. Houses spread down in front of him and off to the left, but the screams were fewer and fainter now, as if they were being made with less strength.

_Or less hope._

He grimaced, felt the urge to run pumping in his blood, trying to move his feet, but he had learned time and again that recklessness would save no one. Miroku took a deep breath and almost choked on the stench in the air, smells that had told him, even at a distance, what was happening.

_Straw, wood, cloth, flesh...burning, all burning. _

He closed his ears to the sounds of death, the sound of the licking flames, and tried to feel his way towards a youkai presence. It was strong, but indirect; the messages of his mundane senses were overwhelming the dark, delicate tug of evil. He took wary steps, up into the very edge of what had once been a marketplace. Charred and smashed fruit, overturned carts and broken bodies littered the square. There was movement in the shadows, and he turned abruptly towards it. Eyes glittered in the shadows; three pairs of eyes.

_Is that - no!_

Fire came at him from three directions at once, but they were all different directions than the one he was looking. Sheer luck saved him, and he dove out of the way of a terrible scorching as two of the bright bursts of flame struck each other and backfired - literally.

_No wonder this village is an inferno. If I'm not careful, I'll end up roasted!_

Thoughts racing, he leapt to one side, avoiding the third line of fire, more accurate than the others and on a direct line with his head. He rolled to a stop at the feet of a girl, not more than thirteen or fourteen, whose hands were both held tightly by the hands of two much smaller children. He almost laughed - these were his demons in the shadows? Stupid!

"Run! What are you thinking? Don't just stand there!"

Stumbling in his haste, Miroku hauled himself back to his feet and shoved the girls towards the place of least destruction. Wide-eyed with terror, the oldest girl stared at him for a moment over her shoulder, and then sped away in the direction he had pushed her. A presence loomed behind Miroku as they dashed out of sight, and he whipped around, but not fast enough. A sharp pain ran across the fleshy part of his shoulder, and he let out a sharp breath.

Quickly, he bounced back away from his newest attacker, reaching around to feel for the damage. His fingers encountered warm wetness and a tear in his robes; it was a flesh wound only, painful but not debilitating.

_I can't use the Kazaana here. Anyone left alive - they wouldn't be for long. And with all that fire - it's dangerous for me, too._

Mind made up, he staggered back a little, as if badly wounded, and listened to the sound of approaching footsteps and demonic laughter.

_One - two - three..._

Suddenly, there were _ofuda _sailing through the air, almost invisible as they were whipped from his sleeve. Weak posture gone, he leapt three feet straight up, the _ofuda _flying in the air before him. The demons, all three of them, were gaping at him with wide eyes and stupid expressions. His staff-head smote straight into the center of the middle _ofuda _and slammed straight down, piercing the head of the smallest demon - and then there was smoke, a vaporizing lizard-shape with its death howl trapped behind surprised fangs. Miroku's feet touched the ground for a moment and then he leapt backwards, away from another burst of fire aimed in his direction.

He held a sleeve over his face, squinting through the smoke and dust, and then turned sharply; he could hear the fleeing footsteps, but not see clearly.

_There_!

He could see them through the smoke, then, the two remaining demons. The smaller one, still larger than a man, stood slightly behind the hulking arm of the other, a giant oni with fire around its fangs. Wind cleared the space between them, and he saw the smaller one opening its mouth, breathing in - there was fire in its throat, and Miroku saw what was coming, and leapt away. The larger youkai whipped its tail, flailing at him as he tried to come near; it had a dragon's feet, a dragon's tail, but the rest of the body was more humanoid.

_Oni if ever I saw one. And these demons - they're so strong! _

There was no other way; he would have to be very careful with the timing of his Kazaana if he wanted to protect what was left of this village and its people. Decision made, he turned on his heel and ran back the way he had come. With a roar and a howl, he heard the youkai give chase. The big oni was faster than he had thought possible; its lumbering footsteps, shaking the ground behind him. Its tail was the greatest danger at the moment. Miroku risked a glance over his shoulder, saw how close the thing had come to him and put on an extra burst of speed. The second, smaller demon was not in his sight, but he counted that as a momentary blessing.

_One at a time!_

At the edge of the village, just as he was turning to confront the oni, Kazaana uncovered, winds howling, he felt a breeze that was not of his own making and ducked, barely in time. There was a whistling sound as that tail passed over his head; he saw his own blood glistening on it and felt his shoulder throb in sympathy. The wind screamed and howled; so did the demon, but despite grasping at everything in its path, even the straggling, scorched blades of grass, it as pulled towards Miroku.

It was useless; Miroku had seen it a thousand times before and it was always useless. As he was thinking that, waiting for the windy void swallow the beast, he felt a sharp pain in his temple and found himself flying sideways, half-dazed, feeling a warm trickle begin and flow down over his eyebrow. His fingers reached out instinctively, and then he saw the Kazaana begin to affect the trees, the flame-enfolded houses and their shuddering frames.

_Damn!_

He closed his fingers, and the wind died just as he hit the ground, bounced, and rolled.

"Ahh..."

Blood was blinding one eye; his ribs ached and he was lucky his back was not broken. He was angry at himself, for not thinking of that other youkai until too late. He thought he knew the reason, too. It had been too long since he had been forced to fight alone - to truly take care of himself.

_I've been slacking! I depend on Inuyasha too much!_

The wound in his shoulder stung, and his forehead was bleeding freely, but both cuts were shallow; he had been lucky.

_Too late for this village, though. _

Smoldering ruins surrounded him; some of the fire had been put out by the force of his Kazaana but where the wind had not reached the flames still beat hungrily. Walls and sections of thatching were burning in a black smudge of smoke beneath which the red-orange flames were barely visible. The girls he had pushed out of the way before were nowhere in sight, and neither was any other living creature. Behind him, he could hear the moans of the oni as it tried to pull itself up, and the hiss of the other youkai, the dragging sounds of its arms on the ground. Quickly, he planted his feet and faced the two of them. They were circling warily, trying to surround him, but he was more careful still. The moment their paths crossed in front of him, he unleashed the howling wind.

With a cry that echoed across the ash-choked village, the pair of youkai were pulled down into the darkness. As they vanished, Miroku whipped the sacred beads over his hand with speed made of long practice, and allowed himself a heavy, pained breath. With slow steps, he made his way across the burnt ground and picked up his staff from where it had fallen when he was thrown.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, there was a gust of wind behind him, and he turned. Ashes and embers blew up at him, and he shielded his face with his sleeve.

"Kagura!"

The word was out of his mouth before he could even bear the swirling ash long enough to look up at her. She looked around them for a moment, and then caught him up in her gaze.

"I thought you would have come here days ago; what happened? You were not in time to save them, Miroku."

"You knew this would happen?"

His eyes were bright with sudden anger; he had become used to her, to her presence and her advice, her innocuousness - but she was not innocuous.

_I needed to be reminded that I am alone here, that Inuyasha isn't going to come and save me. I needed _this_ reminder too!_

Miroku took quick steps towards her, but she evaded him with all-too-apparent ease.

"I did not _know_ - but there were humans here, and this place is in the path of a great migration of youkai, coming from the south. You do remember what I told you?"

The words echoed through his head, just as they had at his first breath of ashes.

_'Other demons enjoy the flavor of human flesh too much...'_

He turned, and she circled him, watching, her face amused behind her half-open fan. Wind rustled the ash at their feet, the brown, singed grass.

"Why didn't you do anything, Kagura?! It was in your power-"

"_Do_ anything? What would you want me to _do_, Miroku? Should I hover over every human village and swat at youkai as you might swat at flies? I cannot protect all of them; neither can you! So why should I protect any of them?"

Miroku stopped dead, his eyes wide and hurt. Could she really be this naive, this....innocent? The thought of innocence, and Kagura, was both ridiculous and somehow attractive.

"At least - at least I try! Some lives will be saved; don't you think that's worthwhile? I know that it is. I know it! So -"

There was a strange expression on Kagura's face, but he couldn't be bothered trying to take it apart; he stopped himself, and shook his head, and then stopped that too. His head hurt; there was a warm, wet flow down the side of his face, sticky on his eyelashes. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them abruptly. She was close to him, far too close; with swift, flowing movements, she had come within an inch of his face.

"I did not intend harm, Miroku. I sent you to save them, didn't I?"

"But -"

His protest was silenced before it even began. He found himself unable to break her gaze, the bright glow of those red eyes.

"This concern you have, I don't understand it. You don't know these people, so how could you feel grief for them? For their...loss?" "

She repeated herself, shaking her head just a little.

"I don't understand it."

Miroku swallowed suddenly, heavily; the movement of her head made him realize how close they actually were. His lips were damp with the warmth of their mingled breath. If she moved any closer -

As if she had been reading his thoughts, she leaned forward very swiftly. Her tongue reached out and touched his temple, warm, tasting. Fascinated, he watched her profile as she moved away from him, the flicker of her tongue out over her lips, the curl of those lips - he almost shook his head again, but remembered in time.

"Kagura - "

His voice was soft, choked with confusion, tension - she was still far, far too close to him. She had only retreated to her previous distance, and when she spoke her lips were almost touching his lips, her breath hotter, the scent of it metallic, familiar.

_Of course, the scent of my own blood would be familiar._

The thought produced a wry twist of his eyebrows, and she saw it and laughed. He had heard her laughter just once before, but the sound was comparable to only one other thing in his memory - the whisper of the wind that brought down the autumn leaves.

"You should take care of those wounds, Miroku. Wounds from youkai can be...irritating."

For a moment, like a shadowy overlay, Miroku saw her as she had been when he took her away from Kouga; the blood, and the agony, and the silence of her acceptance. His eyes went to the stitches in her kimono, the thread dark purple against the paler pink. Quite suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, he saw her in the torn silk as it had been before he stitched it, the pale skin showing -

He forced his eyes to refocus, but that was not immediately helpful.

_Kagura, this is Kagura, and I am - totally losing it._

Miroku let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan, pressed a hand against his temple, and sat down where he was standing. A little cloud of ash puffed out around his feet, and he nearly groaned when Kagura crouched down in front of him.

"You are nearly at the sea, Miroku. You have come almost halfway; does that please you?"

He lifted his eyes at that.

"Almost...halfway?"

He could count back in his head; how many days - no, weeks?

_Three weeks, a little more - twenty-two days. Twenty-two days, I wonder what's been happening...to the others?_

"Did you think this was going to be a quick journey, Miroku? If only you were a little more trusting."

There it was again! A tone in her voice, a lilt at the end of her words; an offer, maybe, or the hint of one.

"Is there something you want to say, Kagura? Now I'm the one who doesn't understand!"

There was just the faintest suggestion of challenge in his voice, and she could not help but smile at it. He caught only the edges, her face hidden suddenly behind her fan again, the corners of her eyes turning up, tightening, as he imagined her lips must be.

"Ah, understanding! Such a difficult thing, isn't it, Miroku? But your confusion does not taste as good as I thought it would, so I will give you an answer."

He could not see behind her fan, but he imagined her tongue touching her lips again. The place just beneath his eyebrow where her mouth had touched felt faintly warm.

"Kagura -"

He seemed to be limited to only her name; other sounds were incredibly difficult to put together into words. She was laughing at him, without any sound - he could see it in her eyes.

"You could come up with me, Miroku; you could fly on the breeze like the most delicate of feathers. But - you won't."

"I won't? Sounds like you _want_ me to come up there with you, Kagura."

He was smiling, and she was suddenly taken aback by the slyness of that smile, the flirtatious edge to it.

"And what if I do?"

She was shocked at her own words, angry at them, even, but after the fact that did her no good. He tilted his head downward, and she saw the _huff_ of breath that displaced his hair.

"Then I would have to say..."

He looked up at her, and this smile, this...this _lecherous grin_, was so completely unexpected that she took half a step backwards.

"I would have to say, I could never refuse the invitation of a lady."

"Ha!"

She managed the scornful burst of laughter, but only just. For a moment - only a single moment, a flash, an instant of stunned time, she had felt...a rush. Heard a sound. It pounded in her head, behind her eyelids, in her fingertips, and then it was gone.

_What was - what was that? What was that?_

Miroku saw only that it looked like she had stumbled, and thought that strange - whatever else she might be, Kagura was a creature of singular and imperturbable grace. After a moment, when she said nothing further, did not move, he raised an eyebrow, and gave half a shrug.

"Well, Kagura? Am I...going with you?"

A vibrant gust of wind answered him, as a single white feather fell from her fingers and expanded rapidly. She was turned away from him, while it gained its full size, and when she looked back at him her eyes had regained their usual sharpness, and an extra glitter.

"Step carefully, Miroku."

She settled into one end of the feather's long curve, and he walked gingerly to the other. His mind was on her words, but not on his feet; instead, his thoughts flashed over their conversation.

_Step carefully, indeed._

He settled against the side of the white, soft surface carefully, and let out an inaudible sigh when it supported his weight. For something so insubstantial, it possessed an unexpected strength.

* * *

As the moon was setting, Inuyasha finally rose from where he had been sitting, hunched over in thought, all afternoon and evening on the roof of Kaede's home. He stretched stiff limbs, testing the scents in the air, the swirling night breeze. Kagome was not back yet; soon, he would go for her.

_But before that - _

He grimaced, shaking his head at just the thought. Swiftly, before he could convince himself otherwise, he leapt lightly off the edge of the roof. He took two swift steps inside, ignored the wolf's eyes on him, glinting from Kikyou's bedside, and crossed to Sango, sitting by her brother.

"Sango."

"Inuyasha? What is it?"

"You were right. I have to ask - _him_. Tell Kagome, if she comes back before I do."

He did not ask if Sango would be awake. She had been beside her brother every moment and he knew she was not sleeping, except for fitful catnaps. He also knew that she wouldn't tell him not to go - hells, she had suggested it in the first place! She would do as he asked.

"Be careful, Inuyasha."

That was all, her face serious in the darkness. He breathed deeply for one suspicious moment. The thought of his brother brought back the thought of what he had said about her.

_Death. Huh. _

But when he tested the air, divided its odors, he could not deny it - there was more than a little truth in his brother's words...in Kouga's confirmation.

_I should ask Shippou what he thinks. Later, though. Now - _

Inuyasha walked outside, and prowled to the outskirts of the village, channeling one of his least favorite scents.

_Where are you, Sesshomaru? Where are you?_

The scent trail was obvious once he found it and focused on it - and it led to a place he found very unlikely...very disturbing.

"The well!"

In his thoughts were suddenly many unlikely scenarios but they were all so terrible that he thought his heartbeat was going to shatter his ribcage from the mere idea. The potential - the well, utterly destroyed, Kagome, trapped on the other side - or worse, Kagome dead in the chaos, broken, his Kagome -

_Kill him! I will kill him, tear apart his flesh from his bones, tear apart limbs and joints, more than just one arm, this time...this time..._

Inuyasha shook his head sharply, twice, dislodging both the terrible thoughts and the terrible voice, the Inu. His smile was suddenly a slash across his face.

_We share _that_ desire, though. The demon inside me and I. _

He could feel, not hear, the laughter of that demon at that thought. Through the moon-set darkness, he ran, and he greeted his brother with that smile, with the laughter of the Inu in his eyes.

"Sesshomaru! I need - I came - I came to ask you about this...army."

He watched a strange thing then; his brother, for the first time in his memory, took a step back from him and _did not draw his sword_. There was a calculating expression on his face, a question in it - and that was also a first, because Inuyasha only remembered his brother as having never shown any emotion at all...ever. _Ever_.

"Inuyasha - you are...you are aware? Of me - of yourself?"

It was such a strange question that Inuyasha actually answered it without argument.

"Wha - of course I am! I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"Yes. Is it your miko that has done this, Inuyasha? Is it...that woman?"

Inuyasha just looked at him, utterly confused, and as he did so the strangeness, the red-eyed laughter, faded out of his face. Sesshomaru was watching him closely - too closely, Inuyasha thought. It didn't help his thinking process.

"Done...what? Kagome hasn't done anything to me, she -"

Suddenly, saying her name, thinking so sharply of her, brought back his earlier fear.

"Why are you here, Sesshomaru?"

The question came out sharp, commanding.

"I was forced to remain nearby because of your indecisiveness, your stupidity. I am not _here_ any more than I am...anywhere."

Inuyasha eyed him suspiciously. There was, once again, no emotion in his brother's voice, and his face was blank, impossible to read.

"Like I'd believe that! I won't let you near Kagome - "

"You think I want your miko?"

"I think you want to hurt her!"

"If I wanted to hurt her, I could have done so many times -"

"As if! You _tried_ many times, but I protected her. I will always protect her. Waiting here won't do you any good - "

"Why would I wait here? Were you not listening, _baka_?"

Inuyasha's eyes were still darkly suspicious, but the thought had occurred to him that perhaps - just perhaps - his brother meant no more than he said. After all, it wouldn't even occur to the average person that a dry well in the middle of the forest might be any more than a dry well.

_But if I say any more, he might get suspicious even if he knows nothing -_

"Why are you here, Inuyasha?"

_Imperious bastard!_

"Didn't you hear me the first time? Going to make me repeat myself?"

"Yes. And yes."

In the dark, dark corners of his brother's mind, Inuyasha was sure that there was laughing going on, even if it didn't show on his face - laughing at him.

_Can't lose my temper - have to ask him - _

"I came to ask you about this...army."

"Ask me. Meaning, you need my help."

Again, perfect, toneless voice. Again, Inuyasha heard nonexistent laughter, felt it beating him like a hammer.

"I - don't - I -"

Inuyasha sighed, slumped.

"Yes."

"Sit down."

At the simple words, so unexpected, Inuyasha almost fell.

"What?!"

"You do not understand?"

"You - you're going to help me?"

"It's either that, or kill you and lead them myself. I would rather not...be bothered."

Inuyasha blinked once, twice, and then sat. After all - what else was there to do? Just this once, he was willing to admit that he needed his brother. Almost lovingly, he caressed the hilt of his sword, and tetsusaiga felt warm under his hand. After they were done talking, everything could go back to the way it used to be.

Couldn't it?

* * *

Behold! Chapter 16, because I have a review and that makes me the happiest person in the world! Guesswho, you are AWESOME! Not only a review, but an excellent one, at that! I think I may even work on chapter 17 now! Me=typing frantically! Frantically! you=Review! Please! (and thank you!)


	17. Chapter 17

XVII.

For Long Ago You Made Up Your Mind

* * *

Kagome made her way out of the well and into the house, and found her mother seated at the kitchen table, reading, waiting for a kettle that was just beginning to steam on the stove. She had looked up as the door opened, and now she smiled at Kagome and started to stand up and reach for another cup.

"Kagome! I wasn't expecting you tonight, what a nice surprise! Have you defeated that youkai, what's-his-name, Bakaku?"

The kettle started to whistle, and she walked over to the stove and turned off the flame, poured the hot water into the waiting teapot. Kagome set her bag down by the kitchen counter and giggled. Bakaku - she'd have to share that one with Shippou.

"Naraku, mama, Naraku - and no, we haven't defeated him yet. I...um -"

Kagome sat and waited while her mother brought the teapot to the table, sat back down, and then poured tea for both of them. She picked up the cup and held it just so she had something for her hands to do. Perhaps it would be best to get this over with all at once.

"Mama, I came back to tell you - that- that - InuyashaandIaretogethernow."

Her mother blinked.

"What was that, dear?"

Kagome took a deep breath.

"Inuyasha and I are _together_ now."

"You...you..._Kagome_! When you came back for your last birthday, I thought it was getting close to this time."

There was a sad smile on her mother's face, but it was a sadness that could not completely cover the joy she felt at Kagome's happiness and good fortune. Kagome flushed a little and looked down at her hands, twisted her fingers together.

"How - how did you know, mama?"

"A mother always knows her daughter. I've been waiting a long time for Inuyasha to make up his mind and - "

"Mother!"

Kagome felt a momentary horror; how much did her mother _know_, exactly? And how did she know it?

"Kagome dear, haven't I already said? A mother knows her daughter! I could see that you were in pain, and I could see why. That boy - I've talked to him a few times, and he always seemed...confused."

She smiled a little, shook her head.

"But that's all over and done with, now, isn't it?"

Her face had taken on a slightly harder expression that said _it had better be!_

Kagome nodded.

"Yes, mama."

"Good. When will Inuyasha be coming for you? He _will_ be coming, won't he?"

There were suddenly daggers in her mother's voice, and Kagome gulped.

_Oh boy..._

"Yes, mama, I expect he'll be coming to bring me back around noon tomorrow. I told him not to come with me, so don't be angry. I wanted to tell you myself, that -"

"That you had married a hanyou five hundred years ago without the permission of your family?"

Kagome nodded dumbly. When she put it like _that_ - but almost immediately, her mother was laughing.

"I understand, Kagome, but he really _should _have asked permission first."

"Mother!"

Kagome flushed scarlet.

"Please don't say anything like that to him - anyway...we - we aren't _married_, exactly. I'm his...mate."

Her mother looked at her with a bemused expression, shrugged faintly.

"But I don't know the difference, Kagome. Do you?"

Kagome hesitated.

"I...Inuyasha told me a few things, when we - when he asked me if I would be...his. It seemed to me like mating is for demons what marriage is for humans, but it's a bigger commitment. Inuyasha said that only death breaks a mating, and sometimes not even that; sometimes, if one dies, the other will too. And I might get to be more like him, gain something of his power, if...if I have enough time..."

Her mother had been nodding slowly, in time with her words. Now, as Kagome's words trailed into silence, she looked up sharply and was surprised by a fluctuation in the smile on her daughter's face.

"Kagome? Something is wrong."

It was not a question.

"It's nothing really, mama. Nothing that can be changed, at least. It's just...no matter what, I'm human - and Inuyasha is hanyou. The fact that I'm his mate doesn't change that I'm _mortal_; do you see?"

But there was pale horror in her mother's eyes; she saw all too well.

"Oh - Kagome...and there's no way -"

"No way I could live forever?"

Kagome smiled, and this time it was a real, full smile.

"Mama, a hundred emperors have wasted their lives in search of an eternal span that was never meant for them. I'm not like that; I can't...I _won't _do that. I'm really good at hoping - I found that out in the past. But I can't hope for something that's impossible."

"And you're sure...you're _still _sure this is what you want, Kagome?"

Kagome laughed.

"You know...when this all started, what I wanted was to go back to before anything happened, back to being Kagome, teenage girl, worrying about school and who was going to get their first kiss first. I wanted to just...be a regular girl again, mama. I really did."

"But now, Kagome?"

Kagome smiled, and it was a gleaming expression.

"I would hate it! Isn't it silly? There're things I would change, things I regret, of course there are."

Thoughts flashed through her head - arguments, fights won and fights lost, Kikyou, wounds that could have been prevented...

"But I wouldn't change _all _of it, mama, I wouldn't take it back. Even though we still have to fight, even though there's still Naraku to worry about. I have Inuyasha now, mama, and compared to that, everything else...everything else..."

She found herself unable to put her thoughts, her _feelings_, into words, but her mother was nodding and smiling through tears that glistened like pearls as they fell through her fingers.

"Yes. I understand; I felt the same way about your father - I still do, even if he's no longer with me. My daughter...I am proud of you, I really am. But you should know that even if you had never fallen through time, you would still have been special; you, Kagome, were never ordinary."

Kagome reached over and hugged her mother tightly; she felt the familiar hand on her hair and let out a long breath.

* * *

It took some time for Kagome to fall asleep that night; she had grown used to her futon in Kaede's house, to her sleeping bag and the hard ground. Her soft, modern bed was almost _too _comfortable, but when she finally did drop off she slept like the dead until mid-morning, and then made her way to the bath one drowsy step at a time.

Her mother had thoughtfully left out the unscented soaps that Kagome had long since started to use, and she hummed a nonsensical tune while she lathered and rinsed and then wandered back into her room wrapped in the fluffiest towel she could find. She felt much more alive now.

She was still humming as she opened her closet door and poked around looking for something interesting to wear. The thought had occurred to her that it might be pleasant to see Inuyasha's reaction to some of her other clothes; out of habit, she still tended to wear a skirt and shirt similar to her old school uniform.

"Hmm...

There was a knock on the door, and her mother's questioning tones.

"Kagome, may I come in?"

"'Course, mama."

There was fumbling at the doorknob, and then Kagome's mother entered, carrying a stack of flat boxes that were so tall she couldn't see over them.

"Mama! What on earth -"

Kagome hurried over and relieved her mother of part of her burden. The two of them put the boxes on the bed; the two stacks side by side were still three feet tall, but her mother batted her fingers away when Kagome tried to lift the top on one.

"Let me explain first, dear. For the last year or so its been very obvious to your grandfather and I that you had no intention of staying in this world – not if it was up to you to decide. Now, you've obviously done that, and we decided this morning it was time for you to be given some of _these_."

Her mother took her hand away from the top of the box and gestured for Kagome to open it; she did so, and gasped. The box held folded silk, a simple but fine kimono in shades of blue. Kagome turned wide eyes toward her mother.

"Mama, are all these boxes -"

"Not all of them, dear. Some are obi and underthings, and I believe your grandfather insisted on including quite a few _tabi_."

Kagome giggled; only her grandfather would find socks to be the most important part. Slowly, one after another, Kagome opened them all and lay them on her bed, smoothed the fabric. It was a veritable rainbow of kimono and yukata, contrasting obi and soft cloaks.

"These were made after the design of the old days; I thought it would be best for you to get used to it as soon as possible. Would you like to wear one, dear? I'm sure Inuyasha would be pleased."

Kagome nodded, and with considerably less fuss than she expected, her mother helped her fold and tie the long, draping cloth correctly. When she was dressed, and the other kimono were packed back in their boxes, her mother sat back down beside her and reached for her hand, patted it gently.

"Now, I know you're going to be terribly embarrassed, dear, but I want to get this out of the way before Inuyasha comes. Have you given any thought to birth control? Your life over there doesn't sound - um - very _safe_."

Kagome took a deep breath and attempted, without success, to control the flush that rose to redden her cheeks.

"Ac-actually, mama, I talked to Inuyasha about that after - after the f-first time. But he - oh mama, he thought I meant I didn't want to have his children; he was so upset! I couldn't get him to listen - to understand that things like the pill only work for as long as I take them. I...we'll just have to let nature take its course, and what happens, happens. If I'm going to be living there, I'll have to get used to being able to protect myself, and any of our ba – _pups_ - that happen to come along. Naraku isn't the only threat."

Her mother stared at her for a moment, and then smiled widely.

"Well, I suppose I should start expecting grandchildren, then. You know, I've been looking, and I can't find a single book that says anything about time-travel having a negative effect on pregnancy. If something does happen, you can always come here for a while. Mama is always here for you, dear."

Kagome laughed, and then hesitated, and then decided that there was no point in keeping secrets; they could only hurt her.

"Mama, there's something else you need to understand. When I don't have shards of the jewel, I can't pass through the well."

Immediately, her mother's eyes widened.

"And - hopefully someday we'll have it all in one piece again, and I suppose it will still work...but we're trying to purify it, get rid of it. And when that happens -"

"When that happens, there won't be any more shikon no tama, and you won't be able to come to us any more. Kagome -"

Tears were welling in her mother's eyes and Kagome went over to her side, knelt and hugged her tightly.

"Mama, it won't be for a while - a long while, I expect, because we haven't had much luck lately finding Naraku _or _jewel shards. But I wanted you to know, in case I don't come back - so you don't think I'm - I'm dead, or something."

Mysteriously, her mother shook her head and smiled a little, patted Kagome's head fondly with one hand and wiped away tears with the other.

"I've never really worried about that, dear. And as for - this business of the well...I know that for as long as you can, you will come back to us. Someone will always be waiting for you."

She smiled faintly, and looked down at her daughter with eyes full of love and pain.

"Don't feel bad, Kagome. I knew as soon as I saw that boy that he was the one; you always looked at him just that way..."

Kagome flushed.

"It wasn't only that, Kagome. I knew that you had a task to do, that no one else could do it; and that you would do it well. Because those who can..._must_."

Slowly, she held Kagome away from her and squeezed her shoulders gently.

"I am now and have always been very proud of you, Kagome. Never forget that."

* * *

Nothing was ever going to be the same again. Inuyasha had run for three hours at top speed, following Sesshomaru -and now, at the end of that run, he was overwhelmed by the presence of a stench that he could identify easily, despite the fact that its source was still miles distant.

_Youkai! And so many..._

With a few well-chosen words, his brother made clear what was coming.

"A score of miles from here ten thousand youkai are waiting – beasts seeking prey, they storm the fortresses they pass in their crossing, devour lives and villages. Men, women, children and the creatures of the forest flee before them."

Inuyasha stares in the direction his nose tells him they are waiting, and swallows heavily.

"You have done this, Inuyasha. If your intention was to ravage half of Nihon with demonic powers, you have succeeded; Naraku, the foe we share, has not caused this much destruction, this much sheer _mayhem_."

"That isn't true – the mountain-"

"Perhaps. But he is not interested in lives, Inuyasha. _He_ is interested in you. The youkai army wants you for its leader; in this thing, in this commitment to the challenges you fought and won, the enemies you defeated and dishonored, they are as one being. They will not stop until they have confronted you; until you have claimed what is yours, put down all opposition and given them some goal beside chaos."

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed to thin and glittering slits, and he stared off in the same direction as Inuyasha, nostrils flaring, power fluctuating unevenly.

"They are running because of Naraku; because of his poison and his stench, because he is too much for any of them to fight. They have banded together to seek you because you are the being who has proved your power to their tribes and clans and dens and families. There are mononoke and yomei and minor kami in your army, Inuyasha; there are spirits of cleansed rivers and beings whose natures I do not know hovering in the train, lurking in the vanguard."

For a moment, Inuyasha's eyes grow unfocused; instances sprang into his memory that might have provided some of the _beings _that Sesshomaru is talking about. The guardian of a lake that Miroku and Sango saved; the infection of a wood sprite that Kagome had cured; the purification of Naraku's miasma, his own defeat of the strongest youkai in every region – because the strongest were the ones who carried shards of the shikon no tama.

He is finally beginning to realize the thing that Sesshomaru could not explain in words; that the instincts of all these youkai mean that he is going to be forced to make a choice, whether he likes it or not – and both options have the potential to be equally deadly.

_I can't just command them, tell them to follow Sesshomaru. They wouldn't listen; they'd want battle first, me against him. And I'd...have to lose. _

Even the thought is impossible; he knows he could never do it – he would die first, die trying.

_And Sango's right. To give Sesshomaru all that power - even if I don't know what to do with it, it's better than him being in control._

For one more minute, Inuyasha stared into the distance – and then he turned and looked at his brother straight on, squared his shoulders and made the decision real by speaking it out loud.

"All right. I'll do it. I'll – lead this _army_. But I can't deal with this now – Kagome's waiting for me to bring her from her family's house. She'll worry if I'm late; later...later, after I talk with her, I'll come back."

"You intend to bring her here with you? You will bring a miko to -"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm hanyou. If they can't deal with my _human_ _miko_ mate, then I'll beat some sense into them...or let her do. She's pretty scary when she's mad; _how_ many sets of your armor has she broken so, again? I don't remember..."

Sesshomaru growled faintly, and then swept away.

"I will only give you one more day, Inuyasha. Do what you must with your miko, and then return, swiftly. Time is growing short; they will not wait forever."

Inuyasha ran back toward the well without speaking another word. He ran toward Kagome, and Sesshomaru's voice echoed in his ears as he went, harsh with truth and anger and a pain he had never suspected with his brother.

"Do not think that to be the leader of this army is to be invincible, to live unchallenged. Our father made that mistake; he did not believe that anyone would try to destroy what he had built, and so he fell into idleness, and played games with human women, and came to his death. Are you as strong as he was, Inuyasha?_"_

His will, his _power_, growled within him. The echo of the Inu was behind them, his own soul's wish for ascendancy, but there was fear, too, because the power that was offered to him, the position of control, was a dangerous place. But that question – that question...

_No. I am **stronger**. I will always be stronger; for Kagome. For the sons and daughters she will bear me. _

_For the future._

* * *

A/N: Well, well...anyone who was reading this, those few of you there were, probably believe this fic long abandoned...but hiatus means hiatus, and I abandon nothing! Nothing! :D So...chapter seventeen, long delayed, comes to you now...mostly because of Kayelyn who was awesome enough to ACTUALLY READ THIS. Well done, Kay! More potentially soon...SO!

Please Review!


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